Strife in Camelot
by ProneToRelapse
Summary: Sequel to Flight From Camelot. Merlin and Zephyr are traveling to villages, hoping to inspire them to join forces with Camelot and aid them if war arises. But alone and longing for his absent manservant, Arthur may not be able to lead his own kingdom.
1. Chapter 1

Water ran from every surface, be it leaves, rocks or clothes. Icy droplets dripped from the tips of Merlin's hair, running down his neck and making him shiver. He curled up into a tighter ball beneath the spread of leaves he had collected to shelter him from the rain. It wasn't working so well. He shivered again and wrapped his hands around his knees, leaning his head on his forearms where they rested against his legs. He sighed and closed his eyes.

"Damn." He looked up when he heard the muttered oath, offering his companion a tired smile.

"Is everything okay?" he asked. His travelling companion over the past month - his sister, Zephyr - had been welcome company. They had visited the villages that lay on the outskirts of Cenred's Kingdom and they were finally heading to the city that surrounded the castle. Their plan was to find as many magic-users as possible and try to earn their trust so that they could return to Camelot with more soldiers to aid them in their beginning war against Mercia and the Eastern Kingdom. Without their help, Camelot was out numbered sixty to one.

"My boot has a hole in it," Zephyr grumbled, her long, raven hair plastered to her head. She sat beside Merlin beneath his makeshift shelter and leaned her head on his shoulder with a sigh. They had run into bad weather and, with no horses as transport, they had been forced to stop and take shelter until the rain let up. Merlin was too tired to maintain a spell to shelter them for too long or to dry their sodden clothes. He yawned and leaned his back against the rocks he'd pitched their camp next to.

"If you weren't so tired I bet you could stop the rain," Zephyr muttered. She had been in a foul mood of late and her damaged boot seemed to be the last nail in her coffin. She'd enjoyed the rain at first, laughing happily when it started and remarking on how she loved travelling in it. But after the sixth day of continuous downpour without reprieve, it had started to grate on her nerves.

"Neither of us have eaten since we ran out of food that Glenda gave us three days ago," Merlin pointed out. "And we haven't exactly been sleeping well." They had met Glenda in the last village they were in, a kindly woman who reminded Merlin of Bridget in his home village of Ealdor. They had saved her son from being savaged by a wyrm and she had taken them in for a few days out of gratitude. But the food she had packed for them was gone and their supply of water was dangerously low. Go figure with all the buckets of it falling from the sky.

"I still haven't quite mastered controlling the weather," Merlin commented wryly.

Zephyr snorted. "Too bad. And I'm not powerful enough to do magic like that. Even if I can still beat you in a fight."

"Zeph, three times that happened."

"It still happened."

"For the sake of my wounded pride, can we pretend that it didn't?"

"Hmm...you know what, I don't think we can. When you become the most powerful sorcerer in the whole of Albion and Court Sorcerer to a King, who-quite frankly, doesn't deserve your loyalty-I'm going to tell everyone I beat you in a fight."

Merlin grumbled darkly under his breath but he was happy that Zephyr's mood seemed to have improved. Just like a sibling, her brother's displeasure cheered her up.

"I vote that I go and try to find something to hunt," Merlin offered. "I mean, we're both starving and our magic has suffered for it."

Zephyr looked thoughtful. "But how would we get a fire going? You'd have to shelter it and keep it alight long enough to cook the meat. No, maybe we should try summoning some food. What do you know how to summon?"

With a slight quirk of his lips - a small smile - Merlin answered, "Strawberries."

Zephyr gazed at him longingly. "Oh, go on. I love strawberries." She widened her eyes and pushed out her lower lip and pouted sadly until he gave in with a roll of his eyes and placed his hands together.

"Blössma," he whispered and felt the familiar magic burn his eyes gold. When he parted his hands, full and red strawberries tumbled into his lap. Zephyr snatched a few up with zeal and devoured them with an expression of rapture.

"I never knew strawberries could taste so good," she moaned around a mouthful. Merlin grinned and popped a couple into his own mouth.

"I second that. Your turn."

Zephyr smirked smugly and pushed her sleeves up her slender forearms. "Okay, brother: watch this." She held out one hand, palm upward, and splayed the other over it, palm facing downwards. Her eyes flashed and she pushed her palms together. When she pulled her hands apart, plump, ripe blueberries collected in her cupped hands. She held them out with a flourish and a cheeky grin. Merlin took a handful and they chewed happily for a few quiet minutes. When they were finished, they both felt fuller and happier.

"If you want to sleep you can," Merlin murmured, watching Zephyr's eyes droop tiredly. "You look exhausted."

"No..." she mumbled sleepily, her head resting against his shoulder. "M'not sleepy."

"You so are."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am...not..."

"Are."

"...Not..." Zephyr's voice was no louder than a sigh. Merlin watched her eyes drifted slowly shut. They didn't open again until morning.

xxXxxXxx

When they awoke the next morning, cramped, wet but still better rested than they had been, a light fog had descended upon the forest, curling ominously just above the ground. Merlin slid out carefully from where Zephyr rested against him and stood, stretching and groaning as his joints popped and unlocked. He yawned wildly and rubbed his hand up and down his arms, trying to warm them with friction. It didn't work so he muttered an incantation and heated the surface of his skin with magic. He sighed in relief as the cold bite of the early morning fled from his frozen skin.

The morning was quiet, peaceful and Merlin savoured the rare moment of calmness that came with the silence. His magic felt alive here, like he could breathe without the fear of persecution. But when he breathed too deeply, an intense pain lanced through his chest and reminded him of the one person he missed inexpressibly.

Arthur...

The expression of fear and contempt on the Prince's face still haunted Merlin from when he discovered that his servant had magic and a subconscious part of the warlock felt that his magic was tainted and deserved the Prince's disdain. He had lost faith in his power: something the Great Dragon had warned him never to do.

Merlin sighed and rubbed the back of his head - a nervous habit of his. The only chance he had of ever returning to Camelot, was to gather as many allies as possible from nearby villages and convince them to join Camelot's army. War threatened and Merlin could not bear to watch Camelot fall to an army so much greater than theirs. Perhaps then, Arthur would welcome him home.

Beside him, a little bird alighted onto a low branch, uttering a soft warble at the boy. Merlin smiled and clucked his Tongue at the bird, coaxing it to come closer. Its breast was a startling shade of blue and the feathers of its wings were a vibrant yellow. A bluetit, Merlin acknowledged.

Merlin had always loved animals, ever since he was a little boy. They seemed to trust him more than the other children in his village and it made Merlin feel special. He knew it was because of his magic, but he felt so connected to nature and wildlife that he wondered whether it was just his magic that called to the creatures.

The bluetit hopped closer, its head cocked to one side. Merlin had recently been gifted with a talisman that enhanced his abilities. He could shapeshift into whatever form he chose and had recently experienced the joys of flight. He felt slightly jealous of the bird that could freely travel to Camelot if it so chose to.

An idea sparked in Merlin's brain. Letting his magic manifest around his voice, Merlin spoke to the bird.

"_Little bird_," he said softly. The bluetit watched him curiously. "_Might I ask one favour_?"

"_Ask, Emerys_," the bird replied, startling Merlin as its intelligent thoughts touched his. "_None of my kind could refuse the great warlock._"

Merlin flushed. Being flattered by a bird... What next?

"_Could you please travel to Camelot and watch the young Prince? I wish to know how he fares in my absence_."

The bird dipped its head. "_I should be honoured to complete this task for you. It shall be done posthaste_."

"_And what is the name of the valiant bird whom I should thank for this task?_"

The bird puffed out its chest proudly. "_I am Casmin, Emerys. Hatchling of the northern forest_."

"_Thank you, Casmin_," Merlin said sincerely and watched as the bird took eager flight. He watched until the small dot of blue disappeared into the sky before turning back to his sister who was now wide awake.

"You're a regular Doctor Dolittle," she grinned. Merlin was bewildered but he was used to Zephyr's futuristic outbursts.

"Who?"

"...Never mind."

They drank some water and freshened up before heading off into the forest, following a vague path to the next village. Constantly, Merlin's mind strayed to the little bird on its way to Camelot. He hoped that Casmin would find Arthur happy, with a new servant and in his element as he became the focused strategist that made him a skilled leader.

But Merlin knew, that if Casmin reported these very things back to him, his heart would shatter and he would lose faith in everything.

xxXxxXxx

As it stood, Marlin had nothing to fear. In the days since Arthur had sent Merlin away, his had retreated within himself and refused to speak to anyone, grieving almost as if his manservant had indeed died. He remained in his room, locked away from the company of others. His father explained to anyone who asked that Arthur was in a period of mourning, as all good leaders are wont to do, for those lost in death. Truthfully, Uther was beginning to worry and when Uther worried, oh gods did he worry.

Arthur lay in his bed, propped upright by a mound of pillows. The curtains were drawn so that not a single shard of light penetrated the gloom. He did not cry - he had promised himself he would never cry for that sorcerer again - but he languished alone in his room, longing for the way things used to be. Betrayal stung fresh in his heart, but the wounds of his longing were far more painful. He had no idea what his manservant's absence would do to him; he had not foreseen the giant hole that would be torn through his entire life, his very being.

He was dragged out of his morose thoughts by a loud banging against his door. He grunted and slid under the covers, not in the mood for Morgana's daily rants. With a loud crash, the door flew open and Morgana strode into the room, wrenching the covers off of Arthur. He stared up at her in annoyance.

"How did you get in?" he demanded. "The door was bolted."

"Get up," she demanded, ignoring his question. No need to tell him she had willed the door open with magic. Look what happened to the last sorcerer he encountered. "There's been an attack."

Suddenly, the depressed Arthur disappeared, replaced by the Prince. "An attack?" He got up and straightened his clothes. "What kind of attack?"

"Does it matter? And attack is an attack. Three of your knights were carried into the city on their horses, arrows shot through their throats." Morgana shivered. "It's a warning. A note was fastened to one of the arrows."

Rather thought back to Kanen and the note stuck to Mathews back with an arrow. A grim memory...but Merlin had been there to make it better...

No!

Morgana eyed Arthur shrewdly. "I miss him too, you know."

Arthur looked at her. "Who?"

"Merli-"

"_Don't say his name_," Arthur hissed. "He is a traitor and a liar. Do not speak to me of liars."

Morgana held up her hands in surrender. "Fine. I'll not get into this again. But you should probably speak to your father. He's worried."

Arthur nodded and didn't move to stop her when Morgana went to fling open the curtains. She pushed a window open so that the room could be freshened. She inhaled the fresh air deey and sighed. She stilled in surprise when a little bird, a bluetit, alighted on the window sill. It looked up at her curiously, its little head darting back and forth, fr her to Arthur. It chirped once and Morgana instinctively held out a hand to the bird. It hopped onto her hand and Morgana felt excitement thrill through her at the contact.

The bird chirped again and Morgana reached out to touch it's head. She froze as she touched it and gasped, her head suddeny full of thoughts that we're hers.

"_Greetings, Lady Le Fey_," the bird thought to her.

_ "...Greetings, small one. What brings you here?_"

"_I am watching the Prince for Emerys_."

"_Who is Emerys?_"

It may have been her imagination, but Morgana swore that the bird looked aghast. "_The Great Warlock_!" it exclaimed. "_How can you not know of him! The very earth sings of his arrival. But...ah, forgive me. You may know him by his family name. I believe it to be Merlin_?"

"_Merlin!_" Morgana was stunned. "He's alive." The last she breathed aloud, relief and happiness washing over her face. Arthur frowned at her, having heard her breathless clarification.

"Who's alive?" he asked.

"No one," Morgana said, setting the bird back down on the window sill. It ruffled its feathers curiously. "I was talking to myself."

Entirely unconvinced but not interested enough to question further, Arthur pulled on his long coat and swept out of the room. Morgana stared at the bird, a feeling of sadness in her heart.

"_Would you be able to carry a message to Merlin for me_?" she asked the bird. The little creature trembled with pride.

"_Of course, my Lady. You can rely on Casmin_!"

Morgana surmised that Casmin was this adorable little creature's name and relayed her message to him. He nodded and dipped his head once before spreading his wings and darting from the sill, arching through the air with a freedom that Morgana envied. One elegant hand resting on the cool stone, she gazed after the little bird until he disappeared over the horizon.

xxXxxXxx

"The next village is that way."

"If you think that then you're blind. It's clearly that way."

"Don't be stubborn. You can see it blatantly lies in that direction. Use your eyes!"

"I am! And they're not nearly as flawed as yours seem to be! You see those bushes? They aren't wild. They grow produce. They only grow near villages."

"Ask for directions."

"There's no one to ask!"

Merlin groaned and slumped to the ground, wiping a hand across his sweat-dampened brow. The rain had been replaced by a thick humidity that was heavy and oppressive, giving Merlin's lungs a workout. He preferred drinking water; not inhaling it. Zephyr leaned against a nearby tree, taking a long draught from their water gourd. She waved a hand over it, replenishing the supply by taking water from the air. She tossed it to Merlin who caught it between eager hands.

"This is ridiculous," Zephyr muttered. Merlin glances at her, too tired to keep arguing. "We're right near a village, if Glenda's directions are accurate, but she neglected to mention whether to go left or right." Zephyr put on an exaggerated accent. "'Och! Me bonny lassie! Yew keep tha' brother o' yours safe an' stay together. The nearest village is just seven miles away. Ya cannae miss it!' Yep, those were some brilliant directions, Glenda."

Merlin tried not to laugh. "We'll find the village, don't worry. We just need to-"

He was interrupted by a loud chirp and he looked around to see Casmin darting after them through the trees. Delight and anticipation welled up inside Merlin and he held out his hand for the bird to perch on.

"_Greeings, Emerys! I have fulfilled your task and I have a message for you from Lady Le Fey_!"

Merlin's eyes widened. "_Morgana?_" he asked excitedly. _"You spoke with her?_"

"I did. And I watched the Prince."

Merlin swallowed. "How...How is he?"

"_I have not much experience in reading human emotions. His eyes were dark and seemed to be retreating into his head. His face fur was not groomed and his flat-beak mouth parts were curved downwards always. My instincts tells me that the sun did not smile upon him, Emerys_." Merlin nodded, unsure how to feel. He wanted Arthur to be happy, of course he did. But resentment is a bitter companion and clouds even the wisest judgement.

"What was the message?" he asked finally.

Casmin shifted before relaying it word for word. "_My dear friend, it grieves me that such a betrayal has befallen you. Arthur was wrong to send you away, we all know that not a single shadow of darkness lingers in your heart._

_ "He misses you, I can see it. He's changed since you left. Gauis does not believe you are dead as Arthur told him. I shall tell him you live to soothe his worries. Keep safe, my friend. May you find a haven soon. Love and well-wishes, Morgana."_

Merlin sighed with relief and happiness, glad to have this small peice of reassurance from his old life. He repeated the message to Zephyr who beamed at him. Casmin, hopping forward hesitantly, chirped to attract Merlin's attention once more.

"Might I ask...Noble Emrys...a small, personal favour?"

"Ask," Merlin said graciously. "I shall grant it if it is within my power."

Casmin appeared nervous. "May I...May I travel with you and the female, Great Warlock? I am lonely in the forest...I would be no hindrance! I could help you: carry messages and so forth...Might I?"

Merlin looked at Zephyr whose eyes were sparkling. "You may come, little one," Merlin said softly. "I would be glad of it."

Casmin cawed happily and flew a delighted circle around merlin's head before perching on Zephyr's shoulder and nuzzling her cheek. merlin smiled at their new companion, his heart lighter than it had been for months.


	2. Chapter 2

**I am so sorry for making you all wait so long! RL has decided to mess with me so badly but I'm back now! *cheers* So, enjoy your lovely chapter that I worked hard on. (Lol, hard on.) And enjoy your dose of Casmin! Nawww!**

* * *

><p>Arthur swept into the meeting hall, adeptly hiding his misery behind an expression of calculating seriousness. He saw Gaius standing beside Morgana, looking old and mournful. Guilt boiled in Arthur's stomach, hating himself for causing the physician unneeded pain. The room was filled with Knights, their wives and several of his father's advisors. The reason for this meeting was therefore incredibly important.<p>

"You sent for me, my Lord?" Arthur said, bowing respectfully to Uther.

Uther rose from his throne. "Arthur, I need your input here. We have confronted Bayard about the attack upon you in the forest and it seems that Grosher has allied his forces with Mercia after all. You were right, my son. They see our strength as a threat. They intend to strike us."

Arthur went cold as ice filled his veins. War? Pure, unbridled _war_? _Without_ Merlin? He resisted the urge to flinch. "I see," he managed, swallowing a few times. "I suggest posting Knights at each of our trading posts. Instruct them to keep watch. Perhaps send spies to the outskirts of both opposing Kingdoms."

Uther nodded and looked to Sir Leon. "Make it so."

Leon stepped forward and bowed. "It shall be done, my Lords." He turned and left, the Knights following dutifully. Uther sighed and sat back upon his throne.

"Leave us," he ordered and the rest of the room's occupants quickly departed. He rubbed his leg - sore from an old war injury - and grimaced. He looked old, older than Arthur had ever seen him. "Arthur, I understand why you feel this way but I must protest. The death of your manservant was unfortunate but you cannot sulk like this any longer. You must return to your duties and remember: he was just a servant. His life is not worth _nearly_ as much as yours. A mere servant."

And a Sorcerer...

Arthur bowed stiffly and departed, jaw clenched against the cry that followed the lance of pain in his chest. He just wanted to forget. He wanted to forget Merlin, forget his wit, his companionship, his good humour...his friendship. Arthur had caused himself permanent injury by allowing himself to care for Merlin more than was appropriate. He had been irreparably foolish.

He rubbed the back of his head as he turned a corner in the corridor, but slowed as he heard voices. He ducked into a small alcove, listening carefully.

"Are you _certain_, Morgana?" That was Gauis' voice, ernest and hopeful.

"Absolutely, I'm telling you the truth. He's alive and he's safe. But I...I think I'm...Gaius, I think I'm a Sorcerer."

Arthur felt as though he was falling. Was _everyone_ hiding magic from him? Was he surrounded by traitors?

"Morgana, you would do well not to talk of such things in public!" Gaius warned. "Tell me why you think this - quietly!"

"I...I see things, Gaius. In my dreams. The future comes to me. I knew there would be a war. I've seen so many frightful things. Oh, Gaius, I'm so afraid! I wish Merlin were here to help me. I know he would understand."

Gaius sighed. "I know, my Lady. I do, too. I'm just overjoyed that he's alive. Please, tell me how you know..."

There voices drifted away as they departed, leaving Arthur feeling hollow and dumbstruck. Morgana a Sorcerer... It was almost too much to believe. But then again so was the idea of Merlin being a Sorcerer. He rubbed a hand over his face and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his thundering heart. Part of him wanted to follow Morgana and Gaius and hear the rest of their conversation, but the other half wanted to forget everything he had just heard.

"Arthur!" He jumped a mile at the sound of his name. His father was striding toward him, a confused frown on his face. "Why are you skulking in the corridors?"

"Uh...I was..."

"Never mind," Uther interrupted dismissively. "I need you to go with Sir Leon and Sir Ergermore on the evening patrol. I will not let Camelot be caught unaware."

Arthur bowed stiffly and hurried away, it was all he could do not to run.

xxXXxxXXxx

"I told you it was this direction."

"Shut up. Just shut up."

Casmin chirped merrily from his perch on Merlin's shoulder while the warlock laughed at his sister's disgruntled expression. Zephyr crossed her arms and muttered darkly under her breath, glaring icily at Merlin who covered his mouth, desperately trying to quell his laughter.

"Come on, Zeph. Let's just go and find somewhere to stay. We can argue later."

She gave in and followed but said nothing, walking with Merlin through the village gates. They had reached the heart of the Kingdom of Escetia.

"Fly around and keep an eye out for soldiers," Merlin whispered to Casmin. "I'll call to you when we have lodgings."

Casmin dipped his little head and flew away. Merlin watched him go, wondering when the next opportunity for his own flight might come. Zephyr touched his shoulder, claiming his attention. She pointed to an old inn that looked rather dilapidated but at least it would offer some shelter.

"If Morgause finds out we're here, she'll kill us both," Merlin whispered to her. "I heard rumours that Morgause has been whispering in the King's ear for a while now, since before he died. I don't understand it, though. She never aspired to be Queen."

Zephyr looked less than pleased. "Mmm. I never liked Morgause. Such an uppity little bi-" She broke off as two soldiers walked past. Merlin yanked her abruptly into the inn, pulling out his money bag. The inside was dark and dusty and empty except for three people, each at different tables, heads bent over large tankards. There was an elderly woman with a kindly, tired face, carrying a tray back to the bar. She smiled welcomingly as they entered.

"What can I do for you, my lovlies?" she asked, stepping behind the bar.

"A room for two, please?" Zephyr said, smiling pleasantly.

"Ah, newlyweds?" The woman offered them a knowing grin.

"Oh, _God_ no," Merlin laughed awkwardly. "No, she's my sister."

"Oh, pardon me. Well, that'll be two gold coins per night for both of you an' that includes breakfast and dinner."

"Brilliant," Merlin said, handing the woman six gold coins. "Three nights should be fine, thank you."

The woman thanked them and handed them a key with a rusted number 7 scrawled messily on the base. Merlin took it and turned to leave when he felt her hand on his arm. He stared because, tattooed on the back of it, was the symbol of the druids. His eyes flickered up to her face in shock.

"Help us, Emerys," she whispered. "The boy was taken. Please. Bring him back."

Merlin frowned. "What boy? Who was taken?"

"The fatherless boy, Emerys. The boy whose mind calls to yours."

Merlin had a strange feeling that he knew who she meant. He placed his hand on hers and met her gaze. "I will."

"Thank you," she breathed and released him.

Zephyr looked curious but said nothing, leaving Merlin free to think on the woman's words.

Their room was small but comfortable and they all but fell into their beds. Merlin pushed his face into the pillow, almost too exhausted to move. He turned his head to ask Zephyr a question but he was met with a loud snore instead.

xxXXxxXXxx

"Merlin? Merlin! Wake up, you stone-eared lummox!" Merlin cracked open one tired eye to see Zephyr standing in front of him, eyes wide with fear. "I've been trying to wake you for an hour!"

"Sorry," he croaked, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "What's wrong?"

"This is the place," she told him, wringing her hands together anxiously. "The place in my vision - it's here!"

Merlin woke up fully. "Where we meet the man with the beard?" She nodded. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"How do you know?" He sat up and rubbed his face, yawning hugely.

"Because their are twenty guards with swords outside."

Merlin stared at her. "Oh, shi-"

The door to the room exploded inwards in a shower of splinters. Merlin leaped off the bed, pulling Zephyr with him, one hand raised defensively in front of him. Half a dozen Knights clad in black rushed into the room. Merlin opened his mouth to say a spell but Zephyr was wrenched from his grip before he could speak. She kicked and screamed but was immediately silenced when one guard pressed a dagger to her throat. Like a cat caught by the scruff of its neck, Merlin instantly surrendered.

Not one of the guards spoke but two stepped forward under unspoken orders and twisted Merlin's arms behind his back. He shouted out in pain, falling to his knees. The Knights forced him to his feet, dragging him and Zephyr from the room. He struggled and fought but didn't use magic. They would slaughter them instantly if either he or Zephyr showed any magical ability. He managed to catch her eye for a split second. She blinked twice, eyes hard. She wasn't afraid.

The Knights dragged them outside, throwing them both to the ground and circling them, hands readily gripping the pommels of their swords. Merlin got to his feet, spitting mud from his mouth. He helped Zephyr up who was furiously wiping her eyes that were wet with tears. She was holding her wrist close to her body. Merlin suspected she'd landed awkwardly on it. He wrapped one arm around her defensively, glaring at the Knight that was openly leering at her.

"I think we could have some fun with her," he drawled, reaching out to stroke Zephyr's face. She flinched and Merlin saw red.

"I wouldn't mind a few rounds with you," the guard continued. "I bet you'd be a good fu-"

Merlin thrust one hand out before him, a jet of flame hitting the leering Knight. He roared in pain and fell back, more guards rushing forward to attack. Zephyr blew across her palm, sending a gust of wind into the Knights, knocking them away. Merlin was about to cast another offensive spell when he was struck across the shoulders from behind. A guard twisted Merlin's arms behind his back. He hissed in pain and his eyes flashed, heating his skin to unbearable temperatures. The guard let go with a shout of pain but he waved his arm and several more guards took his place, surrounding them with drawn swords. Zephyr and Merlin stood back to back, ready to fight their way out, should it come to that. The guard Merlin had burned was nursing his sore fingers and speaking in low tones to another guard. Merlin tilted his head and his magic worked to amplify his hearing.

"...and tell him to bring the boy."

Well, that didn't exactly give any useful information, did it?

"What do you want with us?" Merlin demanded. "We've done nothing wrong!"

"Are you Emerys? The guard demanded, ignoring Merlin's question.

Merlin frowned. "Am I who? What are you talking about?"

The guard sneered. "Instinctual magic? We've heard tell of a dark-haired man from the Druids. We'll know if you are soon enough. If you cooperate, we won't have to resort to threats. The inn keeper turned you in so there's no use lying. And don't try anything or your lady friend will suffer when I get her alone."

Merlin's gut twisted with fury and disgust but he didn't show his unease. "If this is how you get to know people's names, then I'd suggest you need to work on your social skills. And do you always talk in plurals?" Her heard Zephyr snicker behind him.

"Silence, boy," the guard ordered. "I'd think carefully before you speak impudently to one of higher rank than-"

"Let me through! Let me through!" The guard broke off as someone cried out and they parted to allow a tall man with brown hair and a thick beard to enter the circle. Merlin exchanged a quick glance with Zephyr. She nodded once, tersely. It was the man she had seen in her vision little over a month ago.

The man in question nodded his head respectfully to Merlin. "You are Emerys? Please tell us you are! We have awaited your arrival ever since the Druids foretold it a short while ago. They said you could help us."

"You need help?" Merlin asked doubtfully. The man nodded.

"Very much. The death of Cenred has left this kingdom directionless, without a guide. We have to one to lead us and, with war almost at our doorstep, we have no one to protect us."

Zephyr touched Merlin's arm. This was good. This was what they wanted. "Good sir," she began respectfully. "How can-"

She broke off as a small child ran past the bearded man and threw his arms around Merlin's waist. Merlin gasped and crouched down to lift the boy into his arms. The boy's face was tear-stained but he was smiling now at Merlin as though everything was all right.

There was a moment of pregnant silence as Merlin and the child stared at each other. Zephyr could sense the tang of magic in the air and guessed that they were communicating with their thoughts. Then Merlin nodded and turned back to the bearded man.

"Why is he here?" he demanded hotly. "Why isn't he with the Druids?"

The man shifted uncomfortably. "Well, we had to be sure of their help until you arrived..."

"You kidnapped him?" Merlin growled, outraged. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"Times are desperate, Emerys!" the man implored. "Please, we were at a loss of what else to do."

Merlin sighed and looked back at the child and wiped his wet cheeks with the sleeve of his tunic. "If you require our help," Merlin said quietly, "then I suggest a more appropriate venue for this discussion. And in return of our aid, we seek reciprocation from you."

"We shall discuss this further, Master Emerys," the man said. "Consider me your humble servant." He bowed low. "My name is Brettford."

"Very well, Brettford, I am Merlin- or Emerys as you have heard. This is my sister, Zephyr Arcaine. Treat her with all the respect you extend to me."

Brettford nodded so enthusiastically, Merlin thought his beard would fall off. "Of course, of course. Please follow me. We shall arrange rooms for you in the castle."

They followed Brettford through the barren streets and Zephyr nudged her brother with her elbow.

"Who is the child?" she asked softly.

"His name is Mordred. I helped him escape Camelot over two years ago. He's an orphan. A Druid child."

Zephyr stroked the boy's hair comfortingly. "You poor thing. Did they hurt you?"

Mordred shook his head mutely and Zephur nodded. "Good."

Inside the castle was grander than Merlin had expected. The halls were long and arched gracefully. It didn't have the welcoming atmosphere of Camelot, but what building is welcoming when it's occupant has just died? Torches flickered in their brackets and beautiful tapestries hung on the walls. Mordred hugged himself closer to Merlin for comfort. He had told Merlin that he was sorry. His fear of these unknown people had rid him of any anger toward the Prince. He wanted to help Merlin. He truly did.

Needless to say, it was a load off of Merlin's mind.

Brettford showed them to two separate rooms opposite each other. The bed linens were an inviting shade of blue and the bed curtains were a freshly laundered White. Mordred curled up on the bed and was instantly asleep. Merlin levelled his gaze at Brettford.

"Tell me you've been keeping him comfortable," he said dangerously, "or I might suddenly find your kingdom not worth saving."

"Ah, er, yes, well..." Brettford stuttered. "We, um...he was..."

Merlin shook his head. "Very well. Would it be possible to have a bucket of hot water sent to my chambers in an hour?" he asked.

"Oh, me too!" Zephyr called. "A bath would be delightful!"

"Of course!" Brettford stuttered and disappeared down the hall. Zephyr grinned at her brother before closing her chamber door. Merlin followed suit and gently shifted Mordred over to the other side before laying down and closing his eyes, savouring the luxury of a bed that want lumpy or tick-infested.

He was asleep in moments.

xxXxxXxx

A tentative knock on the door brought Merlin out of his nap. He got up and stretched his muscles, walking to the door. A timid chambermaid was clutching a heavy bucket of water and an armful of clean clothes.

"My Lord," she said softly. Merlin smiled kindly.

"I'm not a lord, my good woman. I'm a servant just like you. Well, I used to be. I did this job for almost three years."

The chambermaid's smile was suddenly more confident. She hurried past him and placed the bucket by the fire Merlin had already lit himself. She pulled the metal tub from the antechamber and filled it with the hot water. She placed the clothes on the bed, laying out a set for Mordred, too.

"Can I ask you..."

"Lana, sir."

"Lana. Can I ask you what Brettford wants our help for?"

She paused in her work where she was setting up a divider around the bathtub. "I'm sure I don't know, sir."

"Merlin, please."

"Of course, Merlin. Master Brettford has been requesting the aid of the Druids to help him find Emerys. I assume that's you. But I don't know why."

"Thank you, Lana," Merlin said. "You may go now." She curtseyed breifly before hurrying from the room.

Merlin sank into the blissfully hot water and sighed in pleasure. When he was bathed and dried, he dressed in the new clothes Lana had brought him. Black seemed to be a favourite colour in this kingdom. There were black trousers, a black, embellished jacket and a blue velvet, tunic with a gold belt. He dressed quickly, waking Mordred gently and coaxing him to have a bath and get dressed. He plucked an apple out of the bowl on the table and handed it to Mordred, getting one for himself before they left the chamber. Zephyr was waiting outside for them. Mordred smiled a her and took her hand as they walked down the corridor. One of the guards escorted them to the main hall where Brettford was waiting.

"Please, have a seat." He gestured to a long table, colourfully lavished with plates of food. The three of them tucked in hungrily and Brettford waited patiently for them to have their fill.

"So," Merlin said, sipping from a crystal goblet. "Why do you need our help?"

Brettford plucked a grape and rolled it absently between two fingers. "Word has it that you have ties to Camelot, Emerys, is this correct?"

"Yes."

"You are aware that their army consists of only three hundred soldiers?" he said smoothly. "It would be a slaughter if Bayard and Grosher attacked together."

"I'm aware," Merlin said levelly. "What's your point?"

Brettford smiled. "The Druids have rested their entire hopes upon you and the young Prince Pendragon. They believe that, together, you will bring magic back to Albion."

"So I've been told."

Brettford popped the grape into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing. When he spoke again, his voice was calculating, persuasive.

"Have you ever considered leading, Emerys?"

Merlin glanced at Zephyr who shrugged in confusion. "No. I can't say I have."

Brettford nodded. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and touching the tips of his fingers together. "From what I've heard, you inspire loyalty, Emerys. Your naturally kind and trusting nature makes you an inspiring friend. People would gladly follow you, I think."

Zephyr frowned. "What are you implying?"

Brettford merely smiled. "Our kingdom is directionless- you need an army. We have an army of eighty thousand. Say for instance...if you were to become King. They would loyally follow you."

Merlin stared at Brettford as if he had grown a second head. "King?" he spluttered. "Become King? But...I mean - I'm not even - I don't have...This is insane!"

"Your saying you don't have even a drop of noble blood in you?"

"Well, I...I have some. Our father was a Knight."

"That's good enough."

Zephyr looked at Merlin who stared back at her helplessly. "This could work," she said thoughtfully. "This Kingdom needs a King who will care for them."

Merlin let out a hysterical laugh. "King, though, Zephyr. King! I'm a _servant_!"

"Merlin, be rational."

"Rational? How is this in _any _way a cause to be rational? You're talking about becoming _royalty_!"

"Don't you see? We need this to happen. You'd havew an entire Kingdom under your command. Camelot needs us, remember? Arthur needs you." Merlin flinched at the name.

Brettford, who had been watching their interaction, leaned forward on his elbows. "Might I suggest something?" he asked.

"Please." Zephyr gestured for him to speak.

"Perhaps if Emerys was to become King and then to name an heir. Perhaps then, once the kingdoms are safe, he can abdicate the throne and return to peace."

Merlin considered this. It was a good idea, probably the most sensible one he would find amidst this madness. He looked at Zephyr and nodded. "Alright," he sighed wearily. "I'll do it. Gods give me _strength_."


	3. Chapter 3

**I can't seem to update as often as I want to *cries*.**

**So! How did yuou all like my last little twist? Varyign responses to merlin's supposed Kingship, all very positive. *Hugs you all***

**Now, A little bit of a tense chapter here, but please, don't cry. *Hands out tissues just in case.* It will all be okay, my lovlies!**

* * *

><p>The book of magic that Gaius had given Merlin was now open on Morgana's lap as she eagerly leafed through the illustrated pages, growing more and more gleeful by the second. Gaius made some tea and brought it over to her, sitting opposite her patiently while she gazed at the book. She traced her fingers reverently across a page.<p>

"Merlin knew all of this?" she asked.

"Some of it. Perhaps most of it, but if he does know it, it is because it has been with him all his life. Merlin is not a studied sorcerer; the magic flows through him naturally. It is instinctual to him. And although your magic is not as strong as his, it has its potency in other areas, such as the gift of prophecy." Gauis touched a finger to the book. "Such a gift he has been blessed with," he breathed sadly. "Keeping the secret from Arthur was so painful for him."

Morgana bit her lip. "I feel that there is more than friendship between Arthur and Merlin," she confided quietly. "They have an air of destiny about them - something pushing them together in the same direction."

Gaius nodded thoughtfully. "I have thought the same thing. There is definitely something greater at work."

She sighed. "I wish he had told me. I felt so alone in what I could do. Merlin, all this time!

Morgana went to hand the book back to Gaius. "Would it be okay if I came to read it every now and then?" She asked eagerly.

"Of course. My Lady, I am very grateful to you for the news you have given me."

Morgana smiled and stood to leave. When she reached the door she stopped and asked slowly, "...Gaius, who is Kilgharrah?"

Gaius tensed visibly. "Why do you ask, my Lady?"

She shrugged. "Just a dream I had. He was asking for my help, whoever he was."

Gaius swallowed. "I'm afraid the name fails to be recalled. My apologies."

Morgana shook her head. "Gaius, the time for secrecy has passed. If you know, you _must _tell me." And she was gone. Gaius sat back down heavily, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Why do you need her?" He mused quietly of the Great Dragon. "What could she possibly do?"

xxXXxxXXxx

"This is going to kill me," Merlin groaned, falling onto the bed with a huff, his cape billowing upwards as he fell. Zephyr giggled quietly. "Don't you laugh! This is all your fault! Look at me! I'm wearing a cape - a bloody cape. I'm going to be King... Oh, I'm going to die!"

"Don't be so dramatic!" Zephyr scolded. "Look, if it helps, just imagine the look on Arthur's face when he sees you've become King before him."

A smile stretched across Merlin's face. "Oh, that helps." He sighed heavily. "I just don't think I can do this, Zeph. I'm no King."

Zephyr hugged him. "You don't need to be. You just need to be a kind person who makes decisions to benefit a majority of people. I know you can do that."

"You have so much faith in me."

"It's not unwarranted."

Merlin smiled. "Okay, one question."

Zephyr spread her hands, palm upwards invitingly. "Shoot."

"When I enter the Hall, do I wave with my right hand," he rasied it, "or my left?" He raised the other hand in turn.

Zephyr groaned, exasperated. "We've been _through_ this! Neither. You enter the hall, keep your eyes straight ahead and sit on the throne, _then _you raise your _left _hand and the rest of the gathered nobles will sit. They stand as long as you command them to."

Merlin whimpered. "I can't handle that kind of authority! You do it, you know more about this than I ever will!"

Zephyr growled, jumping to her feet. "Merlin, think of Arthur! This is the only way Camelot can be saved! As it stands, if Camelot is attacked, they will be _slaughtered._ With Arthur as the First Knight he will die _first! _You will _lose _the man you _love!_"

Zephyr's words echoed around the room. Merlin went ghostly pale, eyes wide and dark. Zephyr winced, realising what she had said.

"I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"_Get out_."

Tears leaped to her eyes. She had never seen Merlin so angry. "Merlin, I'm sorry!"

"GET OUT!" he roared. Zephyr ran, her booted feet clicking loudly against the marble floor as she fled. The door splammed heavily behind her.

Furious, Merlin let out a howl of rage. The four posters holding up the curtains above the bed splintered into tiny peices under the force of his unintentional magic.

She knew. She _knew _Merlin hated talking about _Him! _It was a taboo subject, an unspoken secret between them, but she'd had to go and blab it out like a gossiping old fish wife. She had made Merlin face the truth he'd been trying not to acknowledge for years.

With another wordless yell, the vase on teh table shattered, spilling water and wilting flowers across the floor.

Merlin left the room and stormed angrily into the main hall, defiance and ire etched unnaturally onto his face. Brettford leaped out of his chair and bowed hurriedly as he approached, face thunderous. Mordred had been sitting at the table, a quill in one hand and a piece of parchment in front of him. Brettford had been in the middle of teaching him some simple mathematics when Merlin burst in furiously. Mordred watched Merlin curiously, seeming unconcerned by the warlock's anger. He gazed on, silentl and unruffled while Brettford stumbled over his words, struggling to speak and bow at the same time.

"My...m-my Lord," he stuttered, still bowing. "Your sister, she-"

"Stop that!" Merlin snapped. Brettford froze mid-bow. He straightened slowly, smoothing out his robes.

"Yes, my Lord," he mumbled. Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose between the fingers of his left hand. He sighed, long and hard, expelling air in a heavy gust from his lungs. Casmin chirped, flitting around his head once before landing lightly on the back of the vacant throne at the end of the hall. Merlin watched Casmin's flight with tight, narrowed eyes.

"Y-you sister just ran past the hall doors. Toward the gardens. We called after her but she did not hear us. Is everything well with you both?"

Refusing to answer the stupid question, Merlin changed the subject with a question of his own. "How long until the coronation?" he asked quietly.

"A fortnight, my Lord," Brettford said.

"Bring it forward. Three days hence. We cannot wait. Each day that draws to a close puts Camelot in further danger." Merlin hated the way he was acting, but if he was to have any hope of commanding Escetia's army, he would have to be commanding. It was very tedious.

"My Lord, three days will be difficult-"

"Difficult, not impossible," Merlin interrupted. "Go..._Now_!"

Brettford hurried away. Everyone seemed to be running from him lately. What had happened to the quite, demure boy who had left his home three years ago?

He'd had his heart brokwn, that's what had happened.

"You're upset," Mordred said after a beat. Merlin turned to the druid boy and felt his shoulders sag, his anger leaving him feeling weak, his heart thidding against his chest.

"I am."

"You fought with Zephyr?"

"How do you know? Did you hear us arguing?"

"Yes. And, as Brettford said, she ran past the door crying."

Guilt twisted in Merlin's gut like a knife-wound. The pain of it took his breath away. He averted his gaze from the boy who tapped the quill against his chin thoughtfully. Casmin flew over, landing in the ink pot and dabbing little, talon-prints onto a spare piece of parchment. Mordred smiled and reached out a finger to stroke the small bird. Startling Merlin, Mordred suddenly cried out triumphantly and scrawled an answer onto the parchment. It was the loudest noise the boy had ever made without his mind.

"What is it?" Merlin asked, feeling dangerously on edge.

"Brettford asked me to work out this simple calculation," Mordred answered, holding up the page.

"What was the calculation?"

"One hundred and twenty-five multiplied by forty-two and then separated into twenty-five parts."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "A _simple_equation?"

Mordred nodded. "It's really quite easy once you know the basics." He shrugged modestly but Merlin could tell he was pleased with himself.

"And what is the answer?"

Mordred's smile was smug. "It's two hundred and ten."

Merlin stared at the young boy, marvelling at his intelligence.

"Once we're in Camelot," Merlin told him, "you can stay with Gaius. He'll teach you anything you want to know."

Mordred looked immensely satisfied with that.

With a long-suffering sigh, Merlin went to find his disconsolate sister and set things right once more.

The gardens of Escetia were in poor shape. Not a single plant had ever been watered and every living thing was either dying or dead. Water had not fallen upon the soil since the last rainfall three months ago, according to Brettford. It was a sorry place, and, after so many days in the abundant, beautiful wilderness of the forests, Merlin missed the elements that bred his magic.

He found Zephyr beside a small crack in the ground that had once been a small river, judging by the patterns eroded into the mud. She was sat beside it, her arms around her knees, her skirts draped over her legs. Merlin stood quietly a few feet away, watching siletn tears fall from her face. Surprisingly, she didn't look angry or hurt. She looked as guilty as Merlin felt, which made him feel worse.

He was distracted from his guilt, however, when he saw the patch of lush green grass Zephyr was sitting on. He looked down at his own feet and back the way he had walked. Patches of fresh, new grass were left behind him, in shapes the same size as his footprints. He closed his eyes. He could feel his magic working through him to instinctively heal and replenish the dying gardens.

Crouching silently, he plucked a small, discarded seed from teh mud before straightening and walking over to his sister. She looked up at his approach but said nothing. She just watched him with wide, wet eyes, her full lips turned down in a distraught frown. Sitting in front of her and feelign the harsh, dry grass beneath him turn soft and new, he held out his had, offering her the seed. She looked at it confused and merlin let his magic free.

The small seed cracked slightly, a tiny hairline fracture that suddenly burst open the hard shell, letting a waterfall of rich, deep purple spill out like waves of silk. Swirling upwards as if on the wind, the flower bloomed into magnificence, it's strong, healthy roots curling downwards, seeking out the soil. Merlin lowered the flower to the ground, spreading his empty hand onto the soil and filling int with moisture. The plant rooted itself and stood, tall and proud before Zephyr's wide-eyed gaze.

"I'm sorry," Merlin whispered softly. "I had no right to yell at you. Please, let me finish." He held up a hand to stay her ever-ready protests. "You were trying to help me. I just...I don't know what to do." He slumped in the dirt, his hands going backwards to hold himself up. The grass beneath his fingers was, again, newly grown. "I...I-I miss him so much that I can't ...I can't even _think _straight! My magic suffers and I just...I just _can't._"

He sounded so distressed that Zephyr forgot her sadnss and took his hand in hers.

"Heal the gardens with me?" she asked softly. Merlin looked up, a relieved smile on his face. Together, they stood, hands raised, magic burning golden in their eyes.

Together, brother and sister, healed the land of Escetia.

On the wind, a gentle voice whispered, "_Come home_..."

xxXXxxXXxx

Another nightmare, another vision, another visit from the voice that called itself Kilgharrah.

That was why the Lady Morgana was outside the castle in the dead of night, freezing herself to death on a fools errand. She had been told to come here, but for what she had no idea. She rubbed her hands together, trying to warm herself with the friction.

"I'm a fool," she whispered to herself.

"No, sister, you are not."

With a start, Morgana looked up toward the fringe of trees before her. Smiling sinisterly, Morgause stepepd out of the shadows.

"Morgause..." Morgana whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that." She shrugged. "I heard rumours of war and I'm trying to decide which side to fight on. Do I fight on the side of Uther Pendragon, tyrant and abuser of magic-users? Or do I fight with Grosher and Bayard, on the side of liberators of magical lore? Ooh, decisions, decisions."

Morgana felt a shiver run up her back. "Fight with me," she said. "When Arthur is King, magic will be free. Arthur loves a magic-user. He-"

Morgause's head snapped up. "Who?" she demanded, face twisting cruelly. "Tell me, sister. I command thee to tell me. Whomever Arthur loves must be revealed." She seeemed to talk to herself when she continued. "I heard the whisperes of the land, but I did not even _think..._"

Morgana stepped surreptitiously backwards. "I...I know not whom he loves," she lied, an overpowering instinct to protect both Arthur and merlin welling up in her. "He will not say."

"Fin out," Morgause snapped. "It is essential." She looekd to the West and sighed. "I feel a change in the wind, sister. Figure out who _you _will fight for, Morgana. It may be your most important decision." Melding back into the shadows, Morgause disappeared.

"Don't trust her," another voice said. Morgana cried out in surprise.

"She may be your sister, but she acts for herself." A young woman skipped to Morgana's side. "Figth beside Arthur, for whom he fights for, you fight for." The woman smiled. "I have to go. I would have loved to know you, Lady Morgana. Your future is so..._dazzling."_

Stunned, Morgana stared after the girl as she skipped away.

"Why does everyone creep up on me?" she muttered in annoyance, retreating back into the safety of the Kingdom's walls.

xxXXxxXXxx

With Sir Pellinor and Sir Leon stationed as leaders over the Knights on patrol, Arthur left his men to do a quick scout of the perimeter. His horse's feet were bandaged to make as little noise as possible and to protect the soft underside for the quick-coming frost. Arthur shivered and pulled his cloak tighter around himself, his breath misting in front of him every time he exhaled.

Despite the frigid air, the sky was beautifully clear and the stars could be seen in their thousands. Arthur halted his horse for a few brief seconds to stare up at the stars and wonder if, wherever he was, Merlin was staring up at the same stars. Lost in his thoughts, he started when his horse stomped it's foot angrily.

"Hush, Albion. I know you're cold. Just a few more minutes and we can go back-"

Wind whistled past his ear as an arrow narrowly missed his left eye. Albion screamed and reared up in fear. Arthur struggled to hold on, throwing himself forward in the saddle to keep his seat. He drew his sword, wishing he hadn't stared at the stars for so long. The light from the small sparks had left sun spots in his vision, impairing his sight. Albion screamed again and bucked, this time throwing Arthur clear of his saddle. On some unfortunate twist of fate, Arthur slammed bodily into the trunk of a yew tree.

Pain splintered through him and he grabbed for his sword, trying to climb to his feet while his world flashed and span. At the last possible moment, he rolled, avoiding the downslash of a sword. He kicked out furiously, feelign soft flesh under his boot and a satisfying grunt of pain. He felt the cold metal of his sword's hilt and snatched it up, bringing his sword round in a wide arc to fend off any close attackers. He turned his feet gracefully, keeping his balance and letting his energy build. He blinked rapidly, his sight returning.

Two attackers were facing him, broadswords cluthced tightly in their hands. They stepped away from the Prince, dangerous smiles on their faces.

Distantly, Arthur's keen hearing caught the sound of a crudely constructed bowstring being drawn. He whirled around, pure fear creeping into his throat. He was being attacked alone in the dark, and Merlin wasn't here to help him.

The arrow was released and Arthur didn't see it coming until it was too late. The shaft sped towards him and by the time Arthur had seen it...

...It was buried deep into Myra's chest. She gasped and tottered, her hand coming up to try and stem the abrupt flow of blood. She fell and Arthur acted instinctively to catch her. The witch had obviously been nearby and had thrown herself in front of the Prince to save him. A savage cry came from behind him and Arthur turned to see Gwaine and Lancelot cut down the two enemy Knights. Arthur stared at them in wonder, his numb fingers, clutching at the dying witch.

"Help me," he begged, laying Myra gently onto the ground. The two men hurried to him, kneeling beside the witch.

"Arthur," she breathed, smiling through her pain. "You are so very, very foolish, young Prince."

Knowing exactly why she was saying those words, Arthur bowed his head. "I know," he said quietly. "Thank you. For saving my life."

"Not all who have magic are evil, Arthur," she admonished mildly, coughing violently. Lancelot held a white handjercheif to her mouth to catch the blood she coughed up.

"You did right to come and find us," Gwaine said softly. "He _does _need our help."

Lancelot nodded in agreement. "Without Merlin, he's hopeless."

Arthur stared at the two men, pleased betond words to see them. Myra coughed again and winced.

"You shouldn't have let him go, Prince," she murmured. "His magic is the only thing that will...You need him, Prince Pendragon. As the sun needs the moon, you need him."

Arthur felt hot tears on his face. "I..I know. I...I don't want you to die for me. Can you heal yourself?"

She shook her head. "I'm not that strong...My magic has sustained me centuries after my mortal end should have occured."

Lancelot and Gwaine shared a sad smile. Arthur's head bowed shamefully.

"I'm so sorry," he breathed.

Myra's smile was tender and affectionate. "I've been waiting a very long time for my life to end. Magic gives longevity, Arthur. It is both a blessing and a curse. My life is ending and I am happy to see it go...The gates of Avalon are open to me. I can see your mother... She is smiling."

Arthur's breath caught. "Tell...Tell her I love her."

"Arthur, she knows. She loves you, too. This is not the true end for me, Arthur, I do not cease here. I shall live on in Avalon with those I have loved and lost and shall never lose again. But your time is just beginning. On the horizon is a war that will change the future of Albion forever. But to survive, Merlin must be by your side. Without him, you are only half of a whole. Without him...you are lost."

Myra's berathing slowed and her misty eyes flickered shut. She took one last painful breath and berathed out her last.

"Come home," she whispered, words that would travel the skies until they reached the heart of the young warlock destined to be by Arthur's side for eternity.

When they reached him, Myra was already dead.#

xxXXxxXXxx


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur's return to Camelot after the previous night was slow and stilted. Even accompanied by Lancelot and Gwaine, he felt absent, as though he wasn't in control of his own body. The walk towards the city limits started off in silence until Arthur spoke. Neither of the men wanted to be the first to say why they were there, but Arthur was not to be denied. When he asked them, he stared them down until they answered him.

"News travels fast," Lancelot said mildly. "People are whispering of war. Myra found us and said she was a friend of Merlin's and that he needed out help." He shrugged, smiling lightly. "We came to where we were needed."

"But," Gwaine said emphatically. He rounded on Arthur. "I have a bone to pick with you, your royal Pratness."

Arthur winced. He'd been called that before.

"Where is Merlin?" Gwaine demanded. "I know for a fact that, had he been here, you wouldn't have been in danger. He would have fought for you. So, I ask again, where is Merlin?"

"He..." Arthur squared his shoulders, ignoring the pain that lanced through his chest. "I sent him away,l he said defiantly. "He was a warlock - a traitor to Camelot."

"You complete idiot!" The cry didn't come from Gwaine or Lancelot. It came from behind them. The three men whipped round to see Morgana standing there and looking furious.

"Look, I know I lied, but I did it for the best," he insisted. "Think of Gaius. He would have been arrested for harbouring a sorcerer. I stopped that from happening. And besides," he shrugged and it hurt. "Merlin's probably happier wherever he is."

"You know damn well know that Merlin would be happier with you Morgana snapped. "Stop trying to sound noble. You're lucky I know where he is. I-" She broke off and looked up above Arthur's head. A bluetit swooped low over their heads. Gwaine looked to Lancelot who shrugged but Morgana looked overjoyed.

"I don't trust you," she spat at Arthur. "My loyalty now lies with Merlin." Without another word, she disappeared into the darkness.

"You sent Merlin away?" Lancelot repeated. "Because of his magic?"

"You knew?" Arthur spluttered.

"Yes. And I kept the secret because he's my friend."

"I didn't know but I don't give a damn," Gwaine said. There was fierce loyalty in Gwain's eyes. Arthur had to look away. He'd seen that loyalty for him in Merlin's eyes not long ago. "My loyalty lies with Merlin, too," Gwaine hissed and shoved Arthur roughly in the chest.

"Come to Camelot with me," he said diplomatically. "You can't come far into the city but I know a place on the outskirts where you can stay."

What happened next would leave Arthur feeling strange for a while, though he wouldn't quite know why. Lancelot put a hand on Gwaine's arm and his face softened. He smiled at Lancelot and put a hand over the one on his arm. They shared a glance that Arthur felt uncomfortably being privy to. He looked away. What did that mean? Did it mean what he thought it meant?

"About this place," Gwaine said, confirming Arthur's suspicions by levelling a suggestive look at Lancelot. "Does it have one bedroom or two?"

Once inside the city limits, Arthur led them to an old hut that was furnished but long-since abandoned. Gwaine jumped onto the bed and laced his fingers together behind his head. Lance smiled fondly at him. Again, an unnamed emotion welled up in Arthur that felt uncomfortably similar to longing. He quashed it.

"I'll speak to you both tomorrow," he said and left.

"Now that Sir Prissy-Prince is gone, come here," Gwaine complained. Lancelot smiled and laid down next to his lover, pressing their lips together in a soft kiss.

"Where do you think Merlin is?" Lancelot asked worriedly.

"I don't know. But we'll start searching for him tomorrow." Gwaine wrapped his arms around his lover comfortingly. "Don't worry."

"But he could be anywhere!" Lancelot fretted. "Who would know where? And who would tell us?"

"I could tell you," said a soft voice from the corner of the room. Both mean leapt up and apart, swords drawn against the intruder. They froze when they saw Morgana standing there.

"You know where he is?" Lancelot asked.

Morgana nodded. "He's in Escetia. You'll find him in the castle."

"If you're lying," Gwaine threatened darkly, "...there's not much I can do about it." Lancelot snorted in amusement.

"How do you know?" Lancelot asked, feeling slightly suspicious.

Morgana smiled. "A little bird told me," she said. Then she waved cheerily and left them alone.

xxXxxXxx

During Cenred's reign, the kingdom of Escetia had been dull and lifeless. The people feared their ruler and knew that, if they needed it, aid would never come to them, not even in the most desperate of circumstances. Many of the townspeople had moved, left the tyrranous kingdom and its King behind. But those of little means were forced to stay and bear the brunt of a man who should never have been made King.

But now...

Now, the streets of Escetia were full of life, people dancing, singing, playing instruments in the market place. Banners and wreaths hung on doors and rooftops, bearing the new kingdom crest: a red and blue dragon curled around each other with a rune from the old religion in the middle. The rune was the symbol for Prosperity and that's exactly what the people had been experiencing since the arrival of the two strangers.

Escetia was alive!

Having heard the news of a coronation, those in the outlying villages had travelled back to the kingdom, hoping to gain an improved lot in life. There were soldiers posted at the gates of the city - something Zephyr had suggested - handing out little bags tied with purple ribbons filled with little treats for the young ones who travelled with their parents. The soldiers, despite their stern demeanour, couldn't help smiling when they saw the little children's faces light up when they received a gift.

"Here you go, ma'am," one of the soldiers said with a grin, handing the lady a bag. She smiled at him and looked around at the bright, colourful display before her.

"Thank you," she said and untied the ribbon. There was a little bang and a shower or multicoloured butterflies spilled out. She watched them in wonder before taking out a sugared almond from the bag and popping it into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully as she wandered the streets, hoping to catch sight of her children.

"Excuse me?" she said to another guard standing beside a market stall. He turned his attention on her and she was surprised that the cold stare she was used to receiving from the soldiers was gone. She faltered momentarily. "Have you perhaps seen one of my children? They both look very similar. Tall, black hair and blue eyes. The boy is inclined to where a blue or red neckerchief."

The guard shook his head. "Forgive me, I haven't. I can ask around for you, though. What is your name?"

"Hunith," she said. "My son is Merlin and my daughter is Zephyr."

The guards eyes widened. "My good woman!" he cried, "do you not know what today is! Yes I know where you will find your children. Come with me!" He laughed merrily and took her by the hand, taking her directly to the castle.

Inside, servants were hurrying around frantically, arms full of candles, linens and ribbons. The halls had already been lavishly decorated with such splendour and extravagance that Hunith wondered if it was done all by hand or some other element was used to accomplish the feat.

The guard led her up two flights of stone-flagged stairs and to a chamber at the end of a corridor. He paused outside and knocked twice.

"Yes, yes!" a muffled but frantic voice called out. The door opened just an inch and a bearded face looked out. "What is it?"

"This is the Lady Hunith, my Lord," the guard stated, knocking Hunith for six. Lady? What on the gods' green earth was going on?

The bearded man threw the door open. "Come in," he said, gesturing into the room with his hand.

"Mother!" The cry was shouted simultaneously when both of her children spotted her. Overjoyed, she rushed into the room and found herself in the warm embrace of her son and daughter.

"What's going on?" she asked when they released her. She eyes their fine clothes and...was Zephyr wearing makeup?

"Um...okay brief version," Zephyr said. "We were walking through the city, got arrested, brought to the castle because they were looking for Merlin. Found out Cenred had been murdered, Escetia was without a King, we need an army to aid Camelot, Brettford-" she pointed - "beard-face, told us we could command the army if one of us was crowned. Merlin is about to be crowned as King of Escetia and announce me as Crown Princess." She inhaled, running out of breath. "I think that about covers it.

Hunith's knees sagged. She found herself falling into a chair that hadn't been there a moment ago. She laid one hand on her chest, expression one of complete shock. Her children waited for her to regain her composure before asking her any questions. She floundered for a good few minutes, mouth opening and closing soundlessly like a fish.

She cleared her throat and finally said, "you're royalty?"

Merlin and Zephyr nodded.

"It was a very thin line," Merlin admitted. "But it was the only way we could get an army big enough to even _attempt_ to help Camelot."

Hunith stared at her son in amazement. "And you're going to be King?" Her voice broke on the last word. Her lips twitched. "_King_?"

"If I may, my Lady?" Brettford interjected. "As your son is now to ascend to the throne, there is clearly a place for you within the castle. As our King's mother, you will be treated with as much respect as our ruling monarch."

Hunith's eyes were wide. Zephyr stepped forward and took her mother's hand.

"Come on," she grinned, coaxing her from her seat. "Let's go and get you properly outfitted for the ceremony."

"You have an hour," Merlin warned. "Don't be late."

"Oh, hush, your _Highness_. We'll be on time."

Still slightly overwhelmed, Hunith allowed Zephyr to lead her from the chamber.

xxXxxXxx

Exactly one hour later, Merlin was stood in a small antechamber outside the throne room and feeling absolutely petrified. He paced back and forward, teetering on the edge of throwing up and peering out of the crack in the door at the people milling toward the hall excitedly. Merlin swallowed and resumed his pacing.

"Stop it," Zephyr snapped irritably. "You're getting on my _nerves_."

Merlin glared at her. "I'm a little nervous here, okay? Give me a break."

"It's probably normal to have butterflies before your coronation."

"Butterflies? Try sodding great hawks. I'm so nervous I could-" He broke off when Casmin flew in through the small window. He chirped in greeting and landed on Zephyr's right shoulder.

_"Greetings to the new King!"_ he cawed. The cheeps that followed sounded suspiciously like birdlike laughter.

"Thanks," Merlin muttered and folded his arms across his chest. There was a knock at the door and the three of them froze. A guard looked in.

"It's time," he said softly. Merlin exhaled heavily and Zephyr stood to kiss him on the cheek.

"Good luck," she whispered. Merlin nodded, steeling himself, and left the room, his purple cloak billowing out behind him.

The oaken doors of the hall were open wide and Merlin held his head high as he swept down the aisle between the seats. Every spectator stood and watched in anticipation as he approached the throne where Brettford was waiting. He could see his mother seated to the far left of the dais the main throne was set upon. Merlin took a deep breath and knelt on one knee before the throne, bowing his head respectfully. Brettford stepped forward and the guests were seated.

"Dark times indeed are the days we live in," he began, deep voice resonating around the hall, full of authority. "But by a wonderous blessing from the gods, a light has been given us in the form of Merlin Balinorsson." A lump formed in Merlin's throat at that. "At the tenth hour, on this most auspicious day, we give our thanks that our kingdom has been saved." A hail of applause echoed through the room. The hairs on the back of Merlin's neck prickled at the sound.

"Merlin Balinorsson, rise and take your vows."

Merlin stood and turned to face the people in the room. His stomach churned. He closed his eyes briefly and thought of Arthur.

"Do you swear to rule this kingdom with justice and honour?" Brettford asked.

When he spoke, Merlin's voice was clear and calm and rang with the force of a thousand bells. "I swear."

"Do you swear to rule with mercy and love, leading your people aright in all your ways?"

Calm. Only calm. Arthur... "I swear."

"And do you swear to protect your people until your last breath?"

Merlin felt his chest fill with warmth. Eyes glowing gold, he declared, "I swear!"

Brettford approached the knight holding the cushion with the gold coronet on it. Merlin had demanded that a simple, understated coronet be made as he refused to wear a gaudy crown. Brettford had disagreed but complied. He lifted the coronet now, taking it in reverent hand and turning to Merlin who gathered his cloak about him and sat upon the throne. Brettford held the coronet inches above Merlin's head and the young warlock gripped the arms of the throne tightly, jaw clenched against the exhilarated cry that was building in his throat.

"On the basis of the vows you have taken, with the power bestowed upon me by the gods and the old religion, I crown you..."

The coronet began to descend. Merlin twitched, almost leaping out of the throne to get away from the fast-approaching Kingship about to be bestowed on him. He shut his eyes, hand clenching into fists while his muscles looked down as if for impact.  
>The golden coronet settled softly around his head.<p>

"...King!"

The roar of the crowd was deafening but it was drowned out by the thobbing of blood in Merlin's ears. His vision blurred and his legs refused to obey him. He was King. King!

"Long live the King!" the crowed roared. "Long live the King!"

Merlin finally managed to stand, raising his hand to quieten the shouts.

"As my first royal decree," he announced, "I name my sister Zephyr Arcaine as Crown Princess. In the event of my death or if I beget no heirs, the crown shall fall to her." Zephyr entered the hall, looking practised and regal as she approached the throne. Merlin felt a little jealous. Why hadn't it been that easy for him? She knelt before him and Brettford handed him another coronet, this one silver and slightly smaller. Merlin placed it on her head.

"Rise, sister and take your place beside me," he said softly, kissing her brow. Zephyr stood, tears in her eyes and went to stand before the smaller throne that stood on the right of Merlin's.

More cheers followed, more shouts of "long live the King!"

"As my second decree, all magic-users are welcome within Escetia. The days of persecution within these walls are over!" Looking to Hunith's shining face, he added, "and all tax payments shall be reduced to twenty percent. May peace be with you all!"

Zephyr took Merlin's hand and they gazed out over their subjects with light hearts, despite the new weight of responsibility on their shoulders.

But unfortunately hope is a bitter friend.

xxXxxXxx

The banquet was lavishly prepared and set out along the many tables in the hall with great care. Merlin sat at the head of the table, grateful to have both Zephyr and his mother by his side. They were comforting presences and he often found himself looking to them for guidance. They gave him reassuring smiles and patted his hands when the attention wasn't on him.

The entire night was filled with joyous merriment and luscious food. It was wonderful and a momentous occasion.

But to Merlin, it was sullied by the absence of Arthur.

But what would he do if he was here? Ridicule him? Laugh? Tease him?

The Arthur in Merlin's mind would do nothing of the sort. He would smile warmly, offer him a wink and tilt his head approvingly. He would enjoy this feast because Merlin was there to entertain him.

But that just wasn't reality.

"Stop it," Zephyr breathed out of the corner of her mouth, still smiling at a passing noble.

"What?" Merlin asked, surprised.

"You're brooding. Pack it in."

"Oh. Sorry."

"This is your night, Merlin. Enjoy it. You received a victory today and the loyalty of ten thousand people. We're on our way. Soon, we can return to Camelot."

Merlin nodded and returned to his food. He was interrupted when one of his guards appeared by his shoulder.

"My Lord," he said softly, "two men have arrived from Camelot. They claim to have been sent by the Lady Morgana. They wish to see you. Shall I order them away?"

At the mention of Morgana's name, Merlin had quickly wiped his mouth and stood. All eyes were suddenly on him. He raised his hands.

"Forgive me, but I must attend to an urgent matter." Zephyr watched him leave with curious eyes. He didn't look back.

The guard led Merlin to the council room where the two men were waiting. Merlin had to wait impatiently outside while the guard announced his presence. The moment the guard finished, he hurried into the room...

...And stopped dead in his tracks.

"Gwaine?" he spluttered, "Lancelot?"

"Merlin!" his two friends crowed together and suddenly they were hugging him so tightly he couldn't breath.

"What happened?" Gwaine demanded. He tugged on Merlin's cloak. "Hell, you're a noble!"

"No!" Merlin hastily protested. He quickly told them all that had transpired.

"Hell!" Gwaine breathed when he'd finished. "You do manage to get yourself into some weird situations Merlin."

"Tell me about it!"

"And you are too a noble!"

"Am not!"

"Oh, come off it," Lancelot scoffed. "You've always been noble."

Merlin hurriedly wiped his eyes. "It's just so good to see you both. You say Morgana sent you?"

Lancelot nodded. "She said a little bird told her." He raised his eyebrows significantly. "I suppose you can talk to birds now?"

Merlin laughed. "Yeah, but don't tell anyone. People will think I'm a loony."

Gwaine clapped Merlin on the shoulder. "Well, there have to be some perks to knowing the King, huh Lancelot?"

Merlin grinned at him. "As it so happens, Zephyr and I are choosing Knights for our personal guard tomorrow. I think I've got to pospone the plans now that you're here. What say you to a Knighting ceremony instead?"

The grins on his friends faces were blinding. "Come on," he said, putting his arms around their shoulders. "Let's go get some food."


	5. Chapter 5

Uther pushed the wooden piece across the map with a decisive air, tapping the place twice. "Here," he said gruffly. "The outpost shall be placed here."

Feeling awkward about disagreeing, Arthur opened his mouth to offer his option, when the doors burst open and Sir Leon tumbled in.

"Forgive me, my Lords," he gasped, breathless. "I just ran from the gates. An entire army approaches. The messengers say they've come to aid us!"

Uther looked at Arthur who nodded and ran from the room. He was vaguely aware of Sir Leon following, but the Knight was out of breath and kept lagging behind. Arthur flew down the steps, eager to see the size of the army that was to help them.

A large crowd had gathered around a horse-drawn carriage and Arthur had a hard time pushing through. When the people saw their Prince, they hurriedly moved to let him passed.

In the centre of the crowd, a tall, slender woman with midnight blue hair was standing beside a carriage similar to the ones used by royalty for transport. Her dress was black velvet with a silver belt around her waist. Her hair was braided into an elegant plait and hung gracefully down her back. A silver coronet rested on her brow above intense blue eyes. Arthur gaped when he saw the two members of her personal guard. Gwaine and Lancelot stood nearby, eyes watchful and protective. The woman smiled when she saw Arthur standing amidst the people and curtseyed smoothly.

"Greetings, Prince Arthur," she said softly. "I am Zephyr, Crown Princess of Escetia."

"Escetia?" Arthur repeated, confused. He bowed automatically. "Cenred's kingdom?"

Zephyr shook her head. "Dead, Sire. Murdered."

"I'm...sorry." He wasn't, was it obvious?

"Why? He was a cruel King." Zephyr shrugged and smiled. "My Brother and I have come to aid Camelot in it's hour of need. My Brother has come to propose a unity of our armies. We would be able to contribute eighty thousand men and two hundred archers. We-"

"Sister, this talk is better reserved for the council room." Arthur started at the unexpected voice from within the carriage. That voice...it sounded so familiar. Come to think of it, Zephyr bore a striking resemblance to someone he knew. This was all starting to feel slightly strange.

"Of course, brother," Zephyr said with a grin. Gwaine stepped forward to open the carriage door. A figure stepped out, also dressed in black; from his tunic to his trousers. The same silver belt was tied around his waist and he also wore a coronet on his brow, gold not silver. But it was his face that knocked Arthur for six. He stared at the man with wide eyes and an open mouth.

"...Merlin? Is that...you?"

A cheeky wink and a mischievous grin were his answers. "Hello, Arthur."

Arthur blinked spastically. "You're King," he said. "You just wandered into a Kingdom and they made you King."

"Can we discuss this later? Your awe is flattering but I have business to attend to."

"Oh, we'll definitely be discussing this later. They made you King...I'm going mad." Zephyr stifled a laugh and they followed Arthur toward the castle. Arthur kept glancing sideways at Merlin, ignoring the warm burn in his chest that filled him with exhilaration. He most certainly wasn't delighted to see Merlin again.

"I can see why you like him," she whispered to her brother. "He's very handsome." Merlin flushed scarlet and hushed her.

Uther was waiting on the steps with a curious expression that turned into one of shock when he saw Merlin. It was strange, the absence of fear that fell upon Merlin when he laid eyes on the King that had once held the power to have him executed. The burden he once carried was gone. He had the choice whether or not to reveal his magic.

"I though you said he was dead?" Uther demanded bluntly.

"Apparently not," Arthur muttered and moved to stand beside his father. "This is...His Royal Highness, King Merlin of Escetia and Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess Zephyr."

Arthur's face should not look that funny! Zephyr took her brother's hand and he could see that she was also having trouble containing her laughter.

Uther stared. "King?"

Merlin bowed respectfully. "Yes, my Lord. My sister and I have come because I want to lend Camelot our army in the war against Mercia."

"You were a servant! Are you mad? How can you be King?" Gwaine growled and he and Lancelot reached for their swords. Merlin raised a hand, cautioning them. They resheathed their half-drawn swords with irritated grunts. Uther watched the new authority his son's old servant seemed to have gained.

"I do, fortunately, have noble blood within me," Merlin explained. "I am descended from Kings." One little lie here and there... To even the score a little, Merlin narrowed his eyes and added, "not that I have to explain myself, Uther."

Uther's face reddened. "Watch your tongue, you impudent-"

"May I remind you," Zephyr interjected emphatically, "that Merlin is now a King? Surely you should show him the respect he is due? Unless, of course, you wish to dishonour Camelot."

Uther appeared to recover somewhat. Seeing Merlin as King, however shocking, offered the prospect of having Camelot's army increased. This was greatly comforting. "I see... Well, we can discuss this later. Arthur will show you to your rooms." He stepped aside and gestured for Arthur to lead the way into the castle. Merlin and Zephyr followed but Merlin had a small request to make.

"Can I see Gaius?" he asked of Arthur. He saw the Prince flinch and wondered at his reaction.

"Can it wait?" Arthur asked tersely. "I have questions I would very much like answered." The Prince stopped outside the chambers that were usually reserved for royal guests. Zephyr disappeared into the chambers on the right with a brief curtsey and an affectionate punch on the shoulder for her brother.

"I didn't know you had a sister," Arthur murmured.

"Neither did I," Merlin answered before clapping his hands together. "So, to your chambers then? I'm guessing I have some explaining to do."

xxXxxXxx

"Okay, explain," Arthur demanded, settling into his armchair. "How did this happen? How in the name of Albion did you become King? Why did you come to Camelot when magic is banned here?"

"It's a long story," Merlin said tiredly, sinking into the chair opposite Arthur.

"I've got time. Tell me everything."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Are you ordering a King about, Arthur?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "No. I'm ordering about a common sorcerer."

Merlin sighed and began the long tale he had rehearsed all the way to Camelot. He told Arthur about Mary Collins and the chandelier, about casting the spell that summoned the snakes to expose Valiant and the countless incidents after that. He stressed, wherever possible, that he had only ever acted to protect Arthur. The Prince listened with a blank expression that reserved judgement. For now.

"And then I set the dragon free. You have to understand that I had no idea he would attack Camelot. But I promised that I would free him; I couldn't go back on my word. And Gaius told us to go and look for Balinor. Before we left, he told me something that shocked me greatly, as well as giving me another secret to keep. Balinor was my father."

Arthur stared. "Your father?" he spluttered. Merlin nodded sadly.

"Mine and Zephyr's. When he died his magic passed on to me. I inherited the power of the Dragonlords. You didn't actually kill the dragon. I ordered him never to return. As a Dragonlord, he cannot disobey me."

"You spared his life?" Arthur demanded. "After what he did to Camelot?"

"I would not kill the last dragon," Merlin said firmly. "He surrendered. He was at my mercy."

"What about those two Knights who attacked us?" Arthur asked harshly. "The man that you tore apart?"

"They were not at my mercy nor the last of their kind," Merlin answered, meeting Arthur's gaze unflinchingly. "And they were about to kill you. They had already injured you and that is unforgivable to me."

Arthur's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed slightly. He quickly averted his gaze from the other man. "Continue," he said gruffly.

Merlin almost repeated himself and told Arthur that he couldn't order him around anymore, but he thought better of it. "There's not much left to tell," he said wearily. "Arthur, I wanted to tell you about my magic so many times. I trust you above everyone else." He broke off suddenly, expression one of misery. "Secrets have been the crux of my entire life," he lamented. "I've had to hide who I truly am from everyone, even the people I trust implicitly. I didn't want you to have to choose between our friendship and your duty to Camelot and your father."

"Who says there would have been a choice?" Arthur said, voice hard. Merlin flinched, almost imperceptibly but Arthur still saw it.

"I understand," Merlin said quietly and looked down. Arthur sighed and stood, walking over to Merlin until he was standing in front of him. He reached out a hand and slid one finger under Merlin's chin. He gently tilted the Sorcerer's head up until he was looking at him.

"There was never a choice," Arthur breathed. Merlin's eyelids fluttered as the Prince's warm breath fanned across his face. "It was always you, Merlin. I would have protected you, if you had confided in me." Without another word, he leaned forward and softly pressed his mouth to Merlin's. The slighter man was frozen in shock for the length of a heartbeat and then he was melting into Arthur's warm body, kissing him back, one hand cupping the Prince's face, the other curling around the back of his neck.

When they broke apart, Arthur leaned his forehead against Merlin's who reached up and touched his cheek, fingers brushing softly against his skin. He closed his eyes and sighed softly, warmth filling his chest. Tears glinted on his cheeks, but he couldn't tell whose they were.

"Promise me something?" he choked out.

"Anything, Arthur. Anything."

"No matter what I say in the future...please don't leave me again."

"I won't, I promise."

Arthur grimaced. "These past months have been hell without you, Merlin. You have no idea how many times I wanted to ride out and drag you back by your ears. I'm...I'm sorry. I should never have said that...I should never have...I didn't-"

Merlin cut him off with another kiss, relishing the feeling of the Prince's lips against his own.

It seemed to Merlin that when Arthur's lips met his, it awakened something hot and hungry within him. Something that burned passionately with white-hot intensity. Blood boiled beneath his skin and his heart thudded in his chest at the soft feeling of Arthur's lips against his own. His hands came up to clutch at Arthur's shirt, pulling himself against the Prince's defined body. In response, Arthur's own hands seemed incapable of remaining still. They slid softly up Merlin's sides, ghosting over his skin until they reached his hair. Arthur fisted his hands in Merlin's silky hair, tugging gently, eliciting a soft moan from deep in the warlock's throat.

Their lips moved hungrily together and Merlin's tongue flicked out to lick Arthur's bottom lip, begging for entrance that the Prince gladly granted. They both hissed as their tongues touched and Arthur moaned, his arms moving from Merlin's hair to his back, crushing the warlock to him. Their breaths mingled together, hungrily exploring each others mouths with burning fervour, until both of their lips were swollen and wet. They both parted, gasping for breath, smiling foolishly at one another. Arthur gently stroked Merlin's cheek and the warlock leaned into his touch, eyes flickering shut.

"I love you," he whispered. Merlin's eyes opened and they were shining.

"I love you, too," he whispered back and they fell to kissing once more.

Merlin's hands slowly drifted to the front of Arthur's shirt and began pulling at the laces. Arthur's hands closed around his wrists and held him still. His eyes were bright, excited, but there was still a hint of shyness and trepidation visible there. He swallowed once before he spoke.

"Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly. "Are you sure you want this?"

"I'm sure," Merlin answered sincerely. "I want you. Nothing else. Not ever."

Arthur smiled and released his hands, helping Merlin to remove the shirt. When it was gone, Arthur returned the favour by divesting Merlin of his jacket and tunic. With a smirk, he pulled off the neckerchief and tossed it onto the floor along with the growing pile of clothes.

"The crest," Arthur said softly. "What does it mean?"

Merlin looekd to the crest of Escetia that Zephyr had designed. "The red dragon is you. The bluE dragon is me. You were always on my mind, Arthur. Always."

Arthur's arms came around Merlin's bare torso to hug him tightly and they both hissed when skin met skin. Their lips melded eagerly together once more as Arthur directed them both to the bed.

Merlin's eyes widened in surprise as he suddenly found himself falling backward. Arthur laughed at his expression as he landed on the bed, bouncing slightly. Merlin grinned mischievously and gave a sharp tug on the waistband of Arthur's trousers, effectively cutting off his laughter and pulling him down onto the bed as well. The Prince landed squarely on top of Merlin, his arms either side of the warlock's shoulders. Merlin lifted his legs, bending them at the knee so that Arthur was nestled comfortably between them.

Arthur moved up so that he was kneeling and gently ran his hands up Merlin's legs, fingers hooking into the front of his trousers. Merlin watched with hooded eyes as the Prince deftly untied the laces, loosening the fabric so that he could pull them easily away. Merlin raised his hips so that Arthur could pull the trousers off fully, exposing Merlin completely. Almost uncharacteristically, a blush painted the boy's skin a slight pink, from his cheeks to his ears. Arthur smiled softly and leaned down to press a kiss to Merlin's stomach. Merlin grinned and rolled suddenly so that Arthur was beneath him. The prince stared up at Merlin who undid the laces quickly, despite his self-consciousness. Soon, the Prince's trousers had joined the garments on the floor and they both lay completely bared to the other's gaze.

They rolled again, an unspoken word between them, so that Arthur was once more above Merlin. Arthur reached for the oil on his bedside table and applied a liberal amount to his hands before resting one hand on Merlin's stomach and and moving the other to his entrance. He held Merlin's gaze as he slipped a single finger inside him.

Merlin's breath caught and a shiver ran the length of his spine at the foreign feeling. Arthur gently eased his finger through the tight ring of muscle, rubbing soothing circles on Merlin's stomach to relax him. The oil made his passage easier and as Merlin relaxed, he added a second finger. This time, Merlin bucked his hips slightly, a soft moan falling from his lips. Arthur leaned down to kiss him, moving his fingers teasingly inside him. Merlin's lips parted and he gasped as Arthur's third finger entered him. He'd expected worse pain, he'd prepared himself for it, but there was only a dull ache that had refused to focus and now he could only feel pleasure. He bucked his hips a second time, desperately trying to increase the friction.

"Arthur...please."

Arthur kept his pace, knowing he would definitely hurt Merlin if he rushed. "Patience," he said softy and added a fourth finger. Merlin moaned again, louder, more desperate. The pleasure was burning deep in stomach and he was harder than he had ever been in his life. His erection throbbed almost painfully and he knew that if Arthur didn't enter him soon he was going to explode. And not in the good way.

Arthur removed his fingers and Merlin whimpered at the loss. The Prince positioned himself quickly, drawing Merlin's hips into his lap so that he rested comfortably and could see his face. With a whispered, "I love you," Arthur began his slow entrance into his lover.

Merlin cried out as Arthur slowly entered him. He was thicker than even four of his fingers together had been and there was a slight pain, but not much, as he pushed inside. Arthur gritted his teeth, forcing himself to go slowly because he could end up hurting both of them. Inch by inch, he carefully eased his way into Merlin until he was finally buried as deep as he could be inside his lover. He exhaled shakily and pressed a kiss to Merlin's soft lips before drawing himself out and pushing back in.

"Oh, gods," Merlin breathed, eyes shining. "You feel...oh..." He was lost for eloquence as the Prince moved inside him, causing the most wonderful sensations to swirl through his body. Arthur began to thrust faster, leaning down to kiss Merlin. As he did so, his stomach brushed against Merlin's erection and the warlock cried out in pleasure, bucking his hips involuntarily. It was too much, for both of them. Too much, too much...

Pleasure was lancing wildly through Arthur, forcing gasps and moans from his lips as he repeatedly thrust himself into his lover. He could feel his release building and for a moment it threatened to take him over, so he grasped Merlin's erection in one hand and began stroking in time with his thrusts. Merlin yelled out the Prince's name and writhed beneath him. His arms wrapped around Arthur's body as he worked at him. Disconnecting to thrust felt like blasphemy, so they ground against each other in their bliss, until finally, mercifully, Merlin snapped and he shouted out his release, Arthur's name mixed in with a string of curses. Arthur followed directly behind him, vision blurring out as he emptied himself inside Merlin and he felt himself go soft. He fell on top of Merlin, unable to move and they held each other, satisfied and content.

"I knew you'd come back," Arthur mumbled softly into the Warlock's shoulder. "I knew it." He sighed happily as Merlin tugged his fingers through his hair and Merlin, for his part, was doing his best not to cry.


	6. Chapter 6

The sun rose the next morning and brought with it a fragile peace that hung suspended over Camelot like a sheet of glass. Within the confines of it's delicate protection, Merlin and Arthur slept soundly after their reunion, warm in each other's embrace. The soldiers from Merlin's kingdom had set up camp in the training field and were already waking when the first streaks of sunlight stole across the sky. Sir Leon, who had been present for Merlin's arrival, was eager to greet the King-once-manservant and wish him well. Gwaine and Lancelot had enjoyed teasing him mercilessly during last nights evening meal, about their elevated positions in Merlin's court. Leon bore it all graciously, more pleased than anyone could know that Merlin had come home. Perhaps now, the Prince would be able to lead them in to battle.

Smoke was rising from small, individual camp fires that Merlin's Knights had lit near their tents and Leon walked around and between them, making polite conversation with the newcomers. They all seemed quite happy to be there and greeted him kindly in return. From past experiences of skirmishes with the Knights under Cenred's rule, Leon was pleasantly surprised at how the Knights had changed.

He found Gwaine and Lancelot's tent and they welcomed him cheerfully. Well, Lancelot did. Gwaine gave a sort of half-grunt, half-moan, his eyes scrunched up into moody slits while he held his head in his hands. Lancelot mimed pouring the contents of a cup into his mouth repeatedly and Leon nodded in amusement and sympathy. He sat on the ground beside Lancelot and murmured thanks when the other Knight handed him a wooden platter with freshly cooked meats on it.

"How is Knighthood treating you?" Leon asked, quietly so as not to aggravate Gwaine's alcohol-induced headache. Lancelot's smile was blinding.

"Wonderful," he replied enthusiastically. "Merlin held the ceremony the day after his coronation. It was so strange, having my best friend Knight me. Gwaine cried."

"Did not," Gwaine mumbled indignantly, then moaned and rocked gently back and forward. He stood, staggering unsteadily and Lancelot made to stand to help him regain his balance. The other Knight shook his head and held out a hand, his eyes bleary. "M'fine," he muttered. "I'll go and see if Gaius has something for it." Lancelot and Leon watched him go with identical expressions of amusement.

"He's a good one, old Gwaine," Leon said, chewing a succulent piece of lamb thoughtfully.

"Yes, he is," Lancelot answered, sounding more affectionate than he had intended. He cleared his throat, turning slightly pink. "I-I mean..." He trailed off at the sight of Leon's grin.

"You didn't think you'd be able to pull the wool over my eyes, did you?" he teased, putting the platter down and wiping the grease from his hands. Lancelot's eyes widened and his blush turned a deeper shade of red than Leon thought was possible.

"I...I don't know what you mean," Lancelot managed to stutter out. Leon laughed and stood, smoothing out his cloak.

"Well, you can figure out what I mean while I take my turn on patrol. I'll see you later, Lancelot." Leon waved cheerily and disappeared between the tents.

Lancelot swallowed heavily and cast a paranoid glance around him in case anyone else overhead their conversation.

"Damn you, Leon," he muttered moodily.

**xxXXxxXXxx**

Arthur woke up feeling slightly disorientated under the slight weight on his chest and round his waist. For a silent moment, he floundered, trying to remember the events of the previous night. His eyes fluttered open when his memories came flooding back. He looked down at Merlin who was still sleeping soundly, curled up against Arthur's chest. Arthur felt a smile stretch involuntarily across his face. His heart swelled in his chest and he revelled in the feeling of wholeness that stemmed from Merlin being so close. But whatever happened now, he still faced an unavoidable certainty.

He would not see magic the same way again. Not when it was a fundamental part of the man he loved. Merlin had made sure of that.

He still had questions that needed answering, but he could now listen without partiality. He now understood that there was a reason behind every attack on Camelot. Arthur was sure that there was more behind his father's hatred for magic than a mere distaste for the unnatural. Because, truthfully, to Arthur it seemed the most natural thing in the world.

He took the time during Merlin's slumber to think back on their conversation from the day before, trying to find how he felt about everything Merlin had said. Whatever he decided to do with the information he had received, he would protect Merlin with his life.

Arthur looked down at the young warlock who had been born with a gift that caused greatness to be thrust upon him. He hadn't asked for any of this and that thought made pity well up inside Arthur. The young King looked so peaceful with head resting on Arthur's chest and his arms around his waist. Arthur gently carded his fingers through the softy raven locks. The sorcerers return had healed Arthur, filling him with warmth and wellness. The Prince knew with flooding certainty that Merlin was back where he belonged.

Right by Arthur's side.

Merlin mumbled softly and shifted in his sleep, eyes rolling beneath his lids as he slowly drifted back into consciousness. Arthur watched him peacefully, one hand coming up to stroke dark hair back from his face. Merlin's eyes opened, staring directly into Arthur's. He yawned and smiled.

"Hello," he murmured, rubbing his eyes and stretching like a cat.

"Hello," Arthur smiled. Then added cheekily, "your Highness." He was surprised when Merlin leant up to kiss him softly. Arthur was left slightly stunned when Merlin got up and stretched again, flexing his stiff muscles and letting a satisfied moan slip past his lips. Arthur watched him with a ridiculously dreamy expression, eyes glassy as he admired his lover. His eyes travelled down to Merlin's backside and his former manservant chuckled softly under his breath.

The muscles in Merlin's back were thicker, more prominent. He was stronger now, tougher. Fascinated and startled, the Prince watched as his former manservant held out his arms and his discarded clothes flashed over to his body, fitting and wrapping themselves to his form neatly. Merlin offered Arthur a reassuring smile before picking his coronet off the floor, dusting it and placing it back on his head at a jaunty angle that made Arthur laugh.

"Last night was..." Merlin sighed and sat down in the chair beside Arthur's bed, wincing slightly as he did so. Arthur couldn't help the possessive growl of appreciation that slipped past his lips. Merlin raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Is there any way you could cure...that...with magic?" Arthur asked, feeling strange to be talking so candidly about a secret Merlin had kept for almost five years. It was so refreshing in a way. Merlin looked as though he felt the same.

"I can," he said, nodding. A glint appeared in his eyes. "But I'd rather not." He leaned forward, his lips stopping an inch from Arthur's. The Prince held his breath. Merlin smiled coquettishly. "The council meeting will be a lot more bearable," he breathed, "with this reminder of how _roughly_ you took me last night." He leaned away looking satisfied.

A lustful shiver rippled through Arthur. "You can't say things like that," he muttered, flushed.

"I can say what I want," Merlin grinned. "King, remember?"

"King," Arthur muttered. "I still can't believe it."

Merlin smiled. "Try being me. I almost had a heart attack when Brettford suggested it." He shrugged. "It was the only way I could help Camelot."

Arthur felt guilt twist painfully inside him. "After what I did to you, why would you come back?"

Merlin's expression was tender. "Because Camelot is my home, Arthur, and because our destinies are intertwined. And because I love you, you daft idiot."

Arthur's smile was tentative but genuine. It would take some time for him to get used to being in love.

"Show me something," the Prince asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Anything. Just show me what you can do."

Merlin shrugged and opened his palm. A tiny bird made completely of fire fluttered off of his hand and soared twice around the room before exploding into a glittering shower of sparks.

"You make it look so harmless," Arthur said, sitting up. "But it's not, is it?"

Merlin paused before answering. "It can be," he hedged awkwardly. "It depends on your outlook."

Arthur nodded slowly. "I just have to ask," he said hesitantly. "What is your plan for the council meeting? How are you going to hide a hundred magic-users from my father?"

Merlin's smile was downright scary. "I'm not," he said mysteriously, sending a shiver down Arthur's spine.

xxXxxXxx

"So...Merlin," Uther said, the distaste evident in his voice. "What is your proposal for my court?"

Merlin stepped forward, bowing respectfully. He caught Morgana's eye and held back the urge to grin at her like an idiot. She looked as thought she was doing the same. Behind him, Gaius, Zephyr, Gwaine and Lancelot were offering their silent support.

"I have an army of considerable size to offer," Merlin said, "and some advice."

Uther gestured for him to continue.

"I'm sure you have heard the phrase, 'fight fire with fire', my Lord."

"I have."

"Then it is my duty to inform you that, between them, Grosher and Bayard have one hundred and fifty magic-users at their command."

A ripple of unease swept through the court. Merlin continued.

"You cannot defeat warlocks with the sword alone, my Lord."

Uther's eyes narrowed. "I think I know where you're advice is leading, Merlin ap Balinor."

Merlin froze. How could the King possibly know his heritage?

"You dare to come into my court and offer me false hope of an army you claim to control, but to take away our only aid with twisted ideals about working with sorcerers!" Uther got to his feet. "I'll not hear this in my court! The sorcerers have bewitched your mind, oh wise King," he sneered.

"Father, you can't speak to him like that," Arthur protested. Uther's head snapped up to stare at his son.

"I'll speak to him however I deem appropriate," Uther hissed.

Arthur stepped forward. "He is _King. _You should treat him with respect."

Uther drew his sword swiftly and took a purposeful stride toward Arthur, his features curling into a furious grimace. Merlin lunged forward, his magic rippling across his skin like water. He acted instinctively, as he often did when Arthur was involved. He jumped between furious father and son, leaving the ground on two feet and landing on four paws. Uther stumbled backwards in shock as a large brown wolf suddenly took up the space between him and his son. The Merlin/wolf growled in warning, his tail flicking side to side in agitation, ears flat back against his head.

Gasps rippled through the assembled nobles. Merlin turned to face them, catching the looks of panic and pride on Gaius and Zephyr's faces respectively.

"Merlin," Arthur cautioned, reaching out a hand to touch the wolf's back. Merlin straightened his legs and turned his head to look at Arthur questioningly. Arthur shook his head minutely and Merlin let out a coughing growl that sounded like snort. He growled again at Uther before sitting himself at Arthur's feet.

"See?" Uther spluttered, pointing at Merlin. "He's been lying to all of you! He's a sorcerer and his lies have gained your trust. All sorcerers are evil and this…aberration proves it!"

"He just leaped between us because he thought you were going to harm me," Arthur said levelly. "How does that prove anything?"

Uther's eyes glowed with a kind of manic hysteria. "He…he's a sorcerer!"

Arthur looked down at Merlin's wolf from. The animal bared his teeth in a wolfy grin and shook himself as his fur began to dissolve. He rose into his hind legs, skin shifting back into human form. He stood shoulder to shoulder with the Prince, who made a decision that would decide the fate of the entire Kingdom.

"I know," he said, his words heavy with the weight of the implications they carried. He looked to his father with cast-iron resolve.

"You _knew_?" Uther breathed. "Why have you betrayed me?"

"Because you are wrong."

While uther was dumbstruck, Merlin returned to his human form and stood up to his full height, straightening the coronet on his brow. "I stand before the court of Camelot," he proclaimed, "declaring that for three years I worked as a servant in the castle - a sorcerer, true - and not once did I attempt to murder either King nor Prince. My loyalty lies with Camelot, as it always will and always has." He fixed his eyes on the red-faced King. "I stand here today with authority over sorcerers and soldiers alike, ready to once again serve Camelot."

"And I will be by my brother's side," Zephyr declared, stepping forward. Merlin took her hand.

"He has my loyalty, also," Morgana pledged, rising from her throne.

"And mine," Arthur echoed with finality, walking to stand by Merlin's shoulder. Lancelot and Gwaine nodded seriously. Uther stared at them in utter shock.

"You are traitors, all of you," Uther growled. "Leave us!" he barked. The court filed out and Zephyr stepped away from Merlin reluctantly, her eyes glued to her brother's face.

"Go," he whispered. Morgana placed a hand on his shoulder briefly before accompanying Zephyr from the room.

"Arthur," Uther said curtly. "Go."

Arthur's eyes widened. "I cannot remain here?"

"No. _Go_."

Frustration painted Arthur's features but he held his tongue, clapping Merlin on the back as he passed. Merlin forced his expression to remain calm and open, despite the anxiety stirring in his stomach. Uther fixed his stolid gaze onto the young warlock. Merlin stared right back unflinchingly.

"So," Uther began quietly. "A sorcerer."

Merlin nodded. "Yes. Well, techincally I'm a warlock. I'm not quite sure what the difference is."

"You are definitely Balinor's son," Uther agreed. "Though it has been many years since I last saw him, you do bear a resemblance in face and character. He was headstrong and brave. His magic thrived here in the kingdom when such was permitted."

"I find it hard to believe that there was a time when magic ever thrived here," Merlin murmured, thinking of the haggard face of his father.

"Mmm, but it did. Before it was revealed to me how poisonous the practice was." Uther's lip curled.

"By Nimueh."

Uther started. "How do you know her?"

"She was the one who poisoned me three years ago. Then she thought it would be wise to attempt to destroy that which I hold dear. In exchange for the life of another, I offered myself. Instead, Nimueh tried to take the life of my mother. I would not let her."

Uther's eyes were wide. "What are you saying? How could you stop her?"

Merlin sighed. "When Arthur was struck by the questing beast, I travelled to the Isle of the Blessed and asked Nimueh to save him. I traded my life for Arthur's. Sensing my power and being unwilling to destroy me, Nimueh extended her hand toward my mother's life. I destroyed Nimueh for her betrayal and used her death to keep the balance in life. Her death allowed Arthur to live..." Merlin looked directly at Uther. "As it should have done twenty years ago."

Uther's fists clenched. "You know."

"I know."

"I should have you executed."

"Is that your solution to every problem? It may be effective but it's a little overrated."

Uther actually smiled at that. "Very well. I sense you have a great deal to say. Call it masochism, but I am intrigued. Speak."

**xxXxxXxx**

Arthur, Morgana and Zephyr paced anxiously outside the oak doors. Well, Arthur paced. Morgana sort of stood there looking worried while Zephyr was calmly examining the doors, the only one of the three of them who wasn't panicking.

"How can he be so stupid?" Arthur hissed to no-one in particular. He threw his hands up into the air in exasperation. I can't believe he's even considering telling my father about his magic."

"Would you calm down?" Zephyr snapped irritably. "I can't concentrate with you muttering all the while."

"Concentrate on what?" Morgana asked, twisting her hands together.

"On the conversation that's going on the other side of this door. And I'm Zephyr, by the way. I don't think we've been properly introduced."

"No, we haven't. I'm Morgana."

"Pleasure."

"Do you think Merlin can do it?" Morgana asked. "Can he convince Uther to let his armies help? Even with the sorcerers."

"My brother can be very persuasive."

"But can he convince the King?" Morgana pressed. "What chance does he stand against Uther?"

Zephyr paused and turned to look at Morgana over her shoulder. "Not a cat's chance in hell."

Arthur groaned. "I should be in there!"

"What help would you be?" Zephyr asked, though nit unkindly. " Now, Arthur, if you don't mind. You're pacing is really putting me off."

"Yes, off of what exactly?" Arthur demanded. "Is it a familial trait to be so annoying?"

"Must be," Zephyr replied easily. "Now, do you want to hear the conversation or not?"

"Is that a trick question?"

"Are you stupid?"

Arthur glared at Zephyr and stepped forward. An odd gleam leaped into her eyes.

"Forgive me, Arthur, but there really is no other way." She grinned wickedly and raised her arm. With one hard swing, she slapped Arthur across the back of his head with enough force to knock him sideways. He grunted and staggered, his expression one of confused anger.

"What the hell was that for?" he demanded, rubbing his head. An annoying buzzing filled his ears. He shook his head. It did not clear. "You've concussed me."

"Listen, Arthur," Zephyr ordered impatiently.

Arthur leaned forward. "To what? There's nothing to-"

_"Don't you think you've hurt enough people?"_ Merlin's voice rang through his mind as clearly as if he'd spoken from right beside him. He blinked in shock.

"What have you done?" he asked in wonder.

"Merlin isn't the only magical sibling," Zephyr said smugly. "Now, Morgana, give me your hand." As the two women's hands touched, Morgana could hear the conversation too.

"I thought you said there was no other way," Arthur complained.

"Yeah, I lied. That's for hurting my brother."

Arthur had no response for that. Instead, he shuffled his feet awkwardly and concentrated on the voices in the other room.

_"You've destroyed entire lives, Uther, including that of my father. He's dead now and you should know that I hold you responsible. You may not have wielded the blade that slew him, but your hand was evident in the deed, nonetheless. Your personal vendetta with magic must end."_ Merlin's voice was quiet, resigned.

_"You speak poisonous words."_

_"I speak the truth. It is as poison to one who doesn't uphold it. How many more will you kill to attain revenge? As I said, Nimueh is dead. Shouldn't your hatred die with her?"_

Uther growled. _"You know nothing of what occurred-"_

_"I know _everything_ that occurred that night. I heard it from your wife's own lips, the same as Arthur did-"_

"Ah, yes," Zephyr said, momentarily dampening their link to Merlin and Uther. She looked apologetically at Arthur. "I don't think you should hear about that event like this. I think your father needs to speak with you before you kill each other."

"They're talking about _my_ mother," Arthur protested.

"Eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves," Zephyr warned.

"Just let me hear, will you?"

Zephyr sighed and reinstated the link.

_"Your impertinence is shocking."_ Uther mused.

_"So is your stubbornness. Magic is a tool, Uther. It can be a force for good and evil. What matters is how you use it. I'm twenty years old and I have used my magic for good all my life."_

_"All power eventually corrupts."_

_"Yes, and you've proved that point, haven't you?"_

There was a long, painful pause. _"…What?"_ Uther asked, voice dangerously quiet.

_"You condemn people without cause; you decide who lives and who dies. Your quest to eradicate magic has given you a God-complex. You are corrupted."_ Merlin sounded oddly victorious. Arthur dimly wondered how long Merlin had been waiting to say these words.

_"I'll have you executed for this treason!"_ Uther cried.

_"Point proven, Uther. I'm going to say something now, and if you ever listen to anything in your life, listen to this. And, if I know my sister like I think I do, she is also listening. Along with your son and your ward. Mark me, Uther Pendragon."_ Merlin's voice darkened, becoming filled with hatred and contempt. _"Your hatred of magic is disgusting. I _despise_ you for it. For the last three years I have hated you for what you have done to those like me. I've watched you kill countless innocent people and I will watch it no longer. You sicken me, Uther. Everything about you sickens me. But I am offering you help. For my own reasons I will not let Camelot fall. But, if you want a chance to win the war that rapidly approaches, you will form an alliance with my Kingdom. You will consent to house my soldiers within your city. My soldiers consist of archers, halberdsmen, conscripts, Knights and sorcerers. You will allow magic to fight with you for without it you will perish along with every person in Camelot. Bayard and Grosher will use it and I can guarantee you that with their combined strength and the use of magic, your men will be slaughtered. I am offering you help. If you don't take it…"_

_"If I don't take it?"_ Uther asked softly. _"What will happen?"_

_"Then my army will return to Escetia and we will stand by while your Kingdom _burns_."_

_"I don't think you will."_ There was a dark smile in Uther's voice.

_"And what is that supposed to mean?"_ Merlin demanded.

_"You say you have your own reasons for wanting to serve Camelot."_

_"Aye. What of them?"_

_"I know what they are."_

_"Your petulance is astounding."_

_"Arthur,"_ Uther said triumphantly.

When Merlin spoke, his voice was deceptively casual. He knew what Uther was alluding to. _"What about him?"_

_"You won't let him be harmed. You know he won't leave Camelot at a time of war and you care too deeply to leave him behind. You're trapped, Sire. You can no more leave than you can force my hand. And if you stay, I'll have every one of your sorcerers executed, including you."_

_"You underestimate my will, Uther. I will leave if I have to. I'm a King. The lives of my people are important to me. More so than a former master."_

_"You think I don't see it? I'm not blind. I see the way you both act together. And that sickens me. No, you will not leave Arthur. I have you, Merlin. And the trap was set by yourself. How deliciously ironic."_

Arthur was seething with fury. "I should go in there. He can't _speak_ to Merlin like that."

"Get off your high horse, will you?" Zephyr muttered. "Just be patient. Merlin knows what he's doing."

"I _really_ doubt that."

Zephyr straightened and turned to look Arthur directly in the eyes. Her own burned bright blue with intensity. "You doubt him? After all these years, you still doubt him?

Arthur swallowed. "I... No. I don't doubt him. I'm...I'm afraid. To lose him... Again."

Zephyr's gaze softened. "So am I," she murmured and turned back to the door.

**xxXxxXxx**

Uther and Merlin were circling solwly, each eyeing the other warily. Merlin's eyes narrowed and he stopped, holding his palms up in surrender. Uther paused and Merlin waved a hand toward the door. Outside, Arthur, Zephyr and Morgana hissed as their amplified hearing was dampened and they could no longer hear what was being said inside the chamber.

"I will do everything I can to protect Arthur," Merlin said, whispering although no one could hear them. "Absolutely anything. So I make you this deal and I will swear to it by the power of the Old Religon."

Intrigued, Uther inclined his head. "Go on."

Merlin took a deep breath and lifted his eyes to stare directly at Uther. "Allow me and my men to fight for Camelot. Keep my magic-users safe until this war is won."

"And in return?" Uther asked.

Merlin swallowed hard. "In return, when my subjects have returned to Escetia with my sister... I will allow you...to kill me."

Uther blinked. "Kill you?"

Merlin nodded, his expression carefully blank though his eyes burned. "I will kneel before an executioners block, I will walk to a pyre or I will let you place a noose around my neck. As long as you let me defend this kingdom and your son in the face of war. I will submit and allow you to take my life."

For a moment, Merlin wondered if this was enough, if his proclamation would get Uther to see how much he cared for Camelot and for Arthur. If this didn't work, Merlin didn't know what else he could do.

A black-gloved hand was extended towards him. Uther was watching him closely. "Agreed."

Merlin reached out his hand and made a deal with the devil.


End file.
